Creepypasta stories

The Divorce House

Now before you start this, I should let you know this is solely out of memory. All the events did take place, but how I remember them. It may not be entirely true, as this is a memory story, so it is from my point of view over the span of 18 years. Ask anyone in my neighborhood, and they will confirm that these things did happen, at least to some degree.

In the town I live in, there is this house that my parents, some neighbors, and I like to joke about from time to time. I live right across the street from it. I have for about eighteen years. This house, which I personally like to call the divorce house, has a rather bad reputation. As the name implies, many couples have split while living in the home. It's not really a scary house. It looks rather normal: one story, about seven to eight rooms, a dark grey roof and greyish-blue outer walls. Just your ordinary house.

The first couple that lived there that my parents and I know of was a rather young couple. I was about four years old when they split and moved, so I have no real memory of them; my parents had to inform me about this pairing.

The next two where a slightly older couple, with a young boy around my age. His name was David, if I remember correctly. They had moved in when I was about eight. David and I had become good friends, and I would often go over to the house to play video games or played outside on the trampoline. Many of these games had usually been from the Mario series, as David didn't really have any other games. While we were off playing, his parents often fought. This lasted about four years. His parents eventually got a divorce and they had moved to somewhere else. I think the mother won custody of David. On occasion, I do still miss him, as we had been best friends at the time.

The most recent people to live there moved in when I had been about fourteen. It was a couple with a rather young son; then about 2, now around 6. The father still lives in the house, but the mother had run out on him. I have a memory of playing with the boy; I think named Andy or Anthony, something like that. It was some time during winter, about a year after they moved in. The mother had still been there at the time, as she was with us. The three of us were outside, playing in the snow and having a snowball fight. I had only done this because I had been waiting for my father, though I can't remember why.

The father had at some point been cheating or something along the lines of that, as he often brought over a lady friend while the wife was out. Eventually, she must have found out. I remember the night so clearly. I was sixteen at the time. Now, I'm not sure how she found out or how long the fight lasted. All I remember is looking out the window, with my parents, and watching the wife run out of the house and down the street. It looked as though she had been crying, but it was hard to tell as it was raining very heavily at the time. All I know is she never came back after that. The father and the boy still live in the house at the moment. Whether the father had stayed with his girlfriend or not, I am unsure. I haven't been paying attention lately. I see him and his son playing in the front yard, and sometimes see some of the boy’s friends over their house. But other than that, I have no idea.

It's not a scary house; really, it's not. It's rather nice for those who live alone or with a roommate, maybe even some pets. But I suggest couples stay away from it. Just in case.