The house was old and beautiful, giving away nothing on the surface of the horror it had once held below stairs in a dank, dark basement.
A lovely Queen Anne Victorian built in the year 1853. It stood four stories tall and proud. The brochure I clutched so tightly in my hand the paper crinkled informed me the mansion was a grand total of 7,000 SQ ft. All that room and it housed a total of 5 bedrooms, two full bathrooms and a half bath. And an unfinished basement.
There was a turret facing West with a bird's eye view of an elaborate rose garden. It was once my most favorite room in the whole house. I'd sit in the window seat gazing out at the clouds rolling by in the endless sky, day dreaming I was somewhere else, anywhere else. I'd do this for hours at a time, all the while living a different life inside my head than the one I was forced to live in the real world.
Fully restored, the brochure boasted. Contains three banks of original stained glass windows. Beautifully restored original oak hardwood floors. Two parlors, both complete with ornate fireplaces. Two claw-foot tubs – one that was even custom built for the original owner of the house. Original butler's pantry with a copper sink. On and on the brochure went.
Harmond House, the brochure called it. Glossy pictures of rooms stuffed full of priceless antiques, original hardwood covered by well-loved and worn Persian rugs stared up at me from the glossy paper I held clutched in my hands.
For all of the mansions charm and elegance – for all the brochures boasting - I was not impressed.
I was terrified to set foot inside the house.
"Excuse me, Miss." A sharp female voice interrupted my thoughts. "Are you here for the Open House?"
Clearing my throat, not looking at the owner of the voice, I murmured a non-committed, "Yeah."
This had been a very bad idea on my part. Very bad. But, masochist that I was, I had every intention of seeing this thing through. I needed some form of closure. I needed to let the past go and move on with my life. I needed to let them go.
"Well..." the sharp voice cut in, continuing to interrupt my thoughts. An intrusion, and an unwelcome one at that. "I saw you out the window, standing here on the sidewalk." She paused to cough. The sound coming out dainty and at odds with her tone. "You've been in that same spot, staring up at the house for a good twenty minutes now. It's almost time for me to lock up the house for the day... so if you want to go inside and have a look around you need to do that now or come back tomorrow."
At the thought of actually going inside, crossing the threshold, a cold sweat broke out across my skin. Panic threatened to suck me under, down into a dark bottomless pit.
What in the hell are you doing here, Ruby Jane?
Could I actually go through with this? I found that I could not.
Shaking my head from side to side I turned, still not having taken so much as a look in the female's direction, I bolted.
My car was parked four blocks up the street. I didn't stop running until it came into view. Once safely inside with the doors looked I finally let the tears out, to fall silently down my face.
I drove away from the curb with silent tears trekking down my face and shaking hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.
I'd be back tomorrow for the next Open House. I had to do this. For my sanity, I had to.
All my life I'd been alone save for the three years I'd spent at Harmond House. My time spent in hell was, oddly enough, the only time I'd never not felt completely alone.
