Not My Home Anymore

Prologue

It was dull. The road was just the right amount of dirty and well-worn. The narrow edges were no longer exciting for the adventure seekers of this old town. It was so familiar and boring for I knew when every turn would hit us with another slow arc, or when the gravel road would suddenly peak to a small hill. It was all so very dull. Who would have believed that a younger, small Victoria Greyhold would sit in anticipation for those turns and peaks. As a young adult nothing no longer seemed to hit me with such excitement, especially since both my grandparents passed away. Their old house which would always be the treasure at the end of the road for the child in me was now only a dark grey home sitting in a vacant garden.

The house stood-as always-a strong building that could withstand storm after storm. But unfortunately, as the house began to be ignored that was the only thing admirable anymore. The soft blue paint was beginning to slide of the walls, as the windows began to show cracks and how the once strong posts on the porch were beginning to bend it was no longer the home I was safe in.

Our car finally lurched to a stop on the driveway and I began to yet again dread the sight of how everything was still where my grandparents had left it. My Aunt on the other hand lept out of the car and scurried onto the porch, leaving my uncle and I to the luggage.

“Oh, would you just look at it Greg!” She twirled on the porch, making dust almost engulf her, “It will be perfect for us, Gran and Pop would be so happy to have us here, wouldn’t they Vic?”

I rolled both of my bags close to the steps and looked up at the house, feeling another heavy load hit my shoulders. “It will never be the same Aunt Cassie, even the house doesn’t look like it wants to be happy anymore.” I swung my bags on the porch, moving back to the car.

If anything, I didn't want to remember how my grandparents had lived here, there was too many questions I had. No matter how deserted this land felt, it would always try to tell me things. But now isn't the time for silly voices from the trees or whispers from the ground, for that only ever got me in trouble.