People always said Grandma's house was strange. The paperboy, the grocer, even the crazy old bat down the street. The house was oblong, it jutted out in random places, it had more colors than I could count.. In short, it was, well, different. But, in it's own way, it was actually kind of beautiful. As a little girl, I used to jump in joy at the news of going there and loved playing in it's odd corners. The crazy knick-knacks, twists and turns, and the seemingly never ending amount of rooms and halls made it just the right playground! Although, as all people do, I grew older, and once I did, the place lost it's lust and glamour. It seemed.. Ominous. Always creaking, and I could swear I heard footsteps more than a few times when I was alone. Even.. Laughter. That, coupled with grandma's going pretty much insane, caused me to be less than excited when she passed away. I mean, sure, she was my grandma and all but I was never very connected to her. We lost touch, and I only knew her when I was young. I had forgotten most everything. She was like a stranger. The day she died, mum told me I had to clean out the house since I was the only one other than her who knew it so well. So.. To put it short, I'm just hoping I can manage to get out in one piece.
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One Strange House
AdventurePeople always said Grandma's house was strange. The paperboy, the grocer, even the crazy old bat down the street. The house was oblong, it jutted out in random places, it had more colors than I could count.. In short, it was, well, different. But, i...