The apparition of Hills House

History Of Hills House pt 1

I haven't been able to get that dream out of my head. The haunting structure of the building, standing in a dilapidated state. The hollow shell of a home that may have been once a warm and inviting place, now cold and deserted. And the girl. That poor girl just left in a shallow grave.

Did she live there? Was that place once her home? The anger of her spirit was heavy. I felt it in her grip as she held me as it tightened. My wrist throbbed at the thought of it.

So many questions entered my mind to the point I didn't hear Damian walk up behind me.

"You seem distracted Julie. Is something wrong?" He asked.

Unfortunately, due to the sudden question I jumped out of fright causing the frothed cream I had whipped to spill out of the cup and onto my hand, burning it. I hissed under my breath as Damian rushed me to the sink.

"I didn't think I'd scare you so easily like that, I'm sorry."

"No, it's ok. I was zoning out; I should have been paying attention." I speak.

His hold was gentle, like a parent handling a child, caring even. He stroked the area of the burn tenderly. My hand instinctively twitched due to the sensitivity. He looked at me, concern filled his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that. You wouldn't have got this burn if it weren't for me" He stared at my hand, a pink splotch formed where I got hurt.

Something neither one of us expected was him leaning his head down and kissing my wound. When he leveled his posture, he looked at me again before realizing what he had done. His cheeks tinted pink and let go of my hand quickly.

"I'm going to get gauze and... and tape yeah?" He stuttered out.

He hurriedly left the room like a teenage boy getting caught for doing something illegal. I smiled slightly. cute.

"He'll kill you too."

The chill up my spin could put the polar icecaps to shame.

Why? Why did you have to ruin a good moment? I shifted, only to hit something completely cold like ice. I stood paralyzed and looked to see her reflection in the glass if the cabinets. Eyes full of furry, looking at me with contempt, as though I wasn't listening to her warning.

I stepped sideways with whatever strength I could muster and backed up. I turn around to find her gone. Vanished like a cloud of smoke. I was scared to say the least, why is she here? She was so close to me to the point of me actually touching her. I actually felt her cold presence right her with me. I'm going crazy, nothing makes sense to me. It's all surreal. Something is going on; something happened to her, and I need to find out.

But what does Damian have to do with it? Did he know her? She wouldn't be bend on warning me about him if he wasn't involved in some way with her death. But how am I going to find out about her death when all I had was a dream of a house and her grave?

I was thinking about this all the while Damian was dressing my wound. We didn't say anything; there was no need to. I couldn't look at him, if he did have something to do with her death, why was he not arrested for it? Shouldn't he be in jail? Or someone reported a murder? Something just doesn't add up.

I thanked Damian for helping me and was about to lock up, however as I lifted my backpack, I neglected to notice the zipper was still open and my sketchbook fell out. I bent down to get it but someone else was quicker. Damian took it and the pages flipped open, revealing my sketches. I tried to grab for it, but he held it out of my reach and looked at my works.

"Julie these are incredible. You're extremely talented." He stated enthusiastically looking at more.

"Well thanks but I really should be heading out now."

"Wait." The seriousness in his tone was sharp.

"Where did you see this? This building"

"Which building; you have to be more specific." I say to him.

"This one."

He pointed to the very home from the dream I've had. The one where the girl had the shallow grave. I was nervous at the sudden change in the atmosphere. Once bubbly now silent, he looked at me waiting for my reply. I chose my words wisely.

"I saw it when I was taking a walk in the woods once. Why?"

"The woods? I remember it was surrounded by a large forest a couple of miles from town. I haven't seen it in ages."

Bingo.

"You've been here before?" I ask.

I need to know more, keep talking. Please.

"Yes. It was owned by my family in the nineteenth century. My granddad told me how amazing it was back in its glory, showed me pictures of it back in the day too. It was amazing, the unfortunate burning of it was tragic."

Damian looked at the sketch fondly, smiling.

I needed to know more about what happened. Finding out that it was owned by his family was huge, he had a connection to that place. However, the fact that it had burned down as well before he was born was entirely a different turn of event. If it had burned down well before Damian was born; then why was that girl telling me to stay away from him? It made no sense.

"I found it while I was walking and was intrigued by its structure, so I sketched it. I thought it was beautiful even in its current state." I told him, hoping he'd believe me.

"It is very beautiful. I'm glad you stumbled on it. I had almost completely forgotten it was here. I'll have to see it sometime soon."

He handed my book back to me.

"Thank you."

I needed to know more of what happened.

"Can I ask you some questions?"

"Sure, go right ahead."

"How long did your family live in that house?"

"When it was built up until it burned down."

"May I ask why you said earlier when it burned down it was tragic? Did something happen?"

Please let me know, please tell me.

He breathed in for a moment; a deep-set breath when thinking of an explanation.

"Well from what I understood with what my grandad explained, it was a tragic burning of the home. People died in the fire since not everyone was able to get out. One so happened to be a young lady that was very important to the family. She was said to be cheerful, kind and charismatic. She loved everything about life and wanted nothing more than for everyone to be treated with respect and loved. Unfortunately, her life was cut short. MY grandad said that one of the men that was there was devastated about her passing although several witnesses say it didn't happen that way. The servant were the eyes and ears of the home and knew what was always happening in closed doors."

Why do they say that?" I was genuinely curious now.

"Well,' He leans back." they said he didn't shed a tear for her once news of her being in the fire was spread. Not one tear, as a matter of fact he seemed rather happy she was gone. More so strangely since her body wasn't found among the remains. You'd think being her husband would have set off some type of water works."

I couldn't believe what I just heard.

"Husband?"

"Yes, the lady that has perished in the fire; was precious to our family was my great- great uncles' wife."

"When did the fire happen?" I asked Damian.

"It happened in 1894."