I wince as the stairs creak underneath my heels. The rain outside is getting heavier as time passes by. What started as a harmless drizzle now looks like a hurricane. I try calling every single person I know. Not a single one picks up the phone call.
Cobwebs and dust occupy every nook and cranny of this godforsaken house. I still remember when I saw the house for the first time just a couple of hours ago. The absolute horror that was on my face would have been hilarious to anyone who was watching. I should have turned back the moment I saw the mess I had landed myself into. But nope. My brain doesn’t follow common sense; it follows pure stupidity.
I walk through the house, praying to find a room that isn’t absolutely destroyed. I’m not sure why I think I will find something. I have been roaming this place for god knows how long but can’t find a single room. Honestly, I could be running in circles and I wouldn’t be able to tell. Every room feels the same and even though I know time is moving, it feels frozen.
I find a small armchair in one of the rooms. I settle myself down and finally take a moment to understand the situation. No signal. No car. No proper place to stay for the night. A cackling thunderstorm outside.
As each moment passes by, I can feel the downpour getting worse. I’ve been stuck here for hours. The moment I entered, every way to leave seemed to close itself. If the house was a trap I walked in with both my eyes closed with no escape plan.
