I woke up suddenly and realised that it was my dream. I was scared, what was that? A dream? Or a story? Come on, and it’s just a dream. I ignored everything and went back to bed. Do fascination drivers develop when passing a car accident? If they were, none of them turned their lights on. The street remained dark and quiet. I waited in the kitchen for another few minutes then turned and climbed the stairs. That was the last time I ever saw that family. I can’t even remember their last name—to me. They were just “the Marwick family.” That was the house’s name, and it had been for as long as I’d lived in the street. They didn’t return in the morning, as I’d expected, to collect their clothes.
No one came for the furniture. No one even turned out the lights. They stayed on for two full weeks until someone cancelled the contract and power to the house was cut. I hung blackout curtains over my windows for those two weeks and suffocated in the stifling heat of my improvised hotbox. On a few of those hot nights, lay awake staring at my ceiling, completely naked and still overheated, and considered crossing over to the Marwick building, walking through the front door, which I knew had been left unlocked, and turning off the lights myself. I never did. I was too afraid of what lived inside. And suddenly I woke up in the middle of the night again. I realised that it was a continuation of my last dream. What the hell is wrong with me.
Following the night, I was scared. Because It felt like intuition. This Marwick house stayed empty for eight years. Because of the ghost stories being told by many people. It was the most extended house I’d ever seen vacant. Because buying such a fantastic property these days is very common how someone can leave such a big property. For such a so-called story. The building was peaceful during that time, like a giant who had fallen asleep on a hill and was gradually being coated in moss, until no one could tell it apart from the surrounding boulders. Some mornings, when I hung out my washing or watered the plants, I wouldn’t even stare at the building’s façade.
In the next morning. I looked around to see if any of my other friends knew why the last family had left. I even asked the neighbour about the previous family that lived here other than Ruby’s grandparent’s. No one could tell me any more than what I’d seen with my own eyes. Who lived on the house’s other side, even seemed surprised when I told her the building was empty. Eventually, I stopped thinking about it, and the memory began to seem less dramatic and less exciting as time wore away at it. It was passed the For Sale sign so often that it looked unnatural when Sold was eventually plastered over it. It was like an old friend growing a moustache; there was nothing wrong with it, but the change was still uncomfortable.
I’m a curious person. I don’t feel ashamed to admit it. Curiosity does a lot of good; from what I gathered, no one else tried to call the emergency helpline on the night the previous family fled. It doesn’t matter whether it was a dream or reality. It felt like real. Curiosity has led me to find abandoned kittens in drains and to notice. So I don’t feel embarrassed to say I was curious about the new family. Who used to live here. I can feel something secure inside this house. There is something wrong with this house. Not maybe ghost but something intense. Perhaps a mystery is connected to this house. I was anxious to know everything in detail. I told Sannu about my dream and also Ruby. Sannu behaved usually, but Ruby acted like she knew this. I mean, how can she know about my goal. She said, “How do you know about them?” I asked “What are you talking about? It was a dream. ” Ruby said “A dream? Sure?” Yes, of course, I spoke with no doubt. Sannu and I felt to strange to hear that she knew about it already.
I’d already watered plants that morning, but even though it was overcast, I decided the day was warm enough to warrant a second dose. I sidled along the fence, watering can pouring liquid onto the still-wet ground and peeked at my neighbour. She surprised me.