"Think About Your Life"

The building stood stark and lifeless against the azure sky that hung above the expansive golden fields. It appeared to be an old downtown home, misplaced in the open countryside. I stood on the front doorstep of the strange building. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. I checked the house number beside the door. Yes, the address was the correct one, the one that was listed on the paper. I stood at the location of 237 Overlook Drive. The paper had listed the directions and address of the place, as well as an unusual note. The note read:

"Come to this address at the time you receive this notice. Your own future is relative to this. Think about your life..."

I shoved the paper back into my pocket. Reaching my hand up, I gave the front door three good raps. I waited. No answer came. I turned away from the door, flustered. Why was I even here? Why was I actually following the direction of some strange anonymous note, leaving the comfort of my own home to stand here at some decaying old building? A cool gust of wind suddenly swept over me, causing my hair to blow in my face. I turned my face to the wind in an attempt to let it blow my hair back in the right direction. The wind stopped.

That's odd, I thought to myself. Glancing once more at the deteriorating urban house, I started making my way back down the steps. A loud creak that was not from the stairs squealed through the air. I whisked back around. The door was cracked open just enough to see that is was considerably darker inside. I was glued to my spot.

"Come in," boomed a low voice from inside the door. I couldn't make myself go any nearer, and I was too afraid to leave. "Come on. Don't be shy," the voice said. Whoever it was, his voice was eerily soothing. It reminded me of Vincent Price's voiceover in Michael Jackson's Thriller. I smiled a bit, thinking how strange I must be to have that be my first thought. Finally gathering enough courage, I took a slow, careful step up. I cautiously made my way back up the stairs to the small front porch. I was finally back up by the door. I gingerly placed my hand over the door and pulled it open, expecting to be met by some tall and morbid-looking figure. Nobody stood by the door. My stomach jumped. Even then, something inside me urged me on.