They had left the cardboard boxes in the back of the car. Connie Drywood huddled behind the steering wheel and stared through the windshield, presumably at a house, with a flat expression across her face as if it were every other house in America. By now she was used to the middle of nowhere. Dead leaves swooned in the yard. Loose shutters banged in the windows. It was November, a cold day and the house, with its slanted roof and yellow siding, looked a bit like an oversized wedge of cheddar cheese. Back when they had closed the deal, Clay had called the place a fixer-upper. But there were two bedrooms on the second floor and he'd offered to give the smaller one to the baby. The front door swung open. Clay stepped out onto the porch, wearing mud-stained jeans and a sweatshirt from the …show more content…
“Should we go inside?” They went inside. There was no furniture in the house, only a paisley wallpaper and a vinyl carpeting (the cheap kind that snags your toenails) and a bay window that encased the living room. The house was built back in the seventies. Its previous owner was an elderly widow, who had died in the living room from having choked on a potato chip. But her lavender perfume had left a forever stench in the walls; each breath tasted like like dragging your tongue down a satin sheet. Connie followed Clay upstairs. They already knew the layout — they had attended a walk-through back in March, when Clay still worked at the auto garage and Connie still lived in the moments between pregnancy tests — but perhaps they needed an excuse to talk about something more than the baby. There were two bathrooms. One connected to the master bedroom. It featured an antique tub, an ornate beauty with a curved bottom and two knobs screwed above the faucet. Connie twisted the knobs. Stepping back, she watched lukewarm water pour from the spout. One room remained. They went down the hall to the baby's bedroom which looked more like a
"The house is 10 feet by 10 feet, and it is built completely of corrugated paper. The roof is peaked, the walls are tacked to a wooden frame. The dirt floor is swept clean, and along the irrigation ditch or in the muddy river...." " ...and the family possesses three old quilts and soggy, lumpy mattress. With the first rain the carefully built house will slop down into a brown, pulpy mush." (27-28)
The stench was found to be from her father’s dead body and her husband’s, of which she had been sleeping with since she killed him. In the short story “Yellow Wallpaper”, the main character Jane was dealing with a slight nervous depression. Her husband John rented a small house in the countryside in hopes of recovery. Her husband believed the peace and quiet would be good for her. In the house, she is confined to bed rest in a former nursery and is forbidden from working or writing.
Filban said the home had a yard that was overgrown. “The trees and bushes were overgrown, and the house was dark,” Filban said. “And the windows were covered.” She and her sister slept in the front bedroom of the house. She remembers the bedroom having a large, floor-to-ceiling window. She said you could look out and see the wra...
The silence was okay, she could’ve lived with that. But it was the coldness that scared her; the coldness suspended in the air between them: her mommy washing dishes in the kitchen, head bent, hair swooped to the side, hiding her left cheek, and her daddy, sitting on the sofa reading the Sunday paper in silent indifference. She was caught in the middle, with her toys scattered around her, shivering at the coldness of it all. She knew.
The arrival of winter was well on its way. Colorful leaves had turned to brown and fallen from the branches of the trees. The sky opened to a new brightness with the disappearance of the leaves. As John drove down the country road he was much more aware of all his surroundings. He grew up in this small town and knew he would live there forever. He knew every landmark in this area. This place is where he grew up and experienced many adventures. The new journey of his life was exciting, but then he also had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach of something not right.
The house was quiet and peaceful on a pebbled street, the moving trucks pulled up as Clara followed. She stepped out of her car and looked at the house thinking of how this is a fresh start in her life. “Its perfect” she said with a smile on her face. As the movers pushed open the trailer door Clara walked through the white picket fence gate on to the pebbled path and felt the feeling that she was safe, she whispered to herself “Home”.
Similarly, the furniture in the house is as sullen as the house itself. What little furniture is in the house is beaten-up; this is a symbol of the dark setting. The oak bed is the most important p...
We also see the use of irony, using a word or phrase to mean the exact
...th green shutters beside the windows. With one ring of the door bell, the door shot upon and Niva came running out. Happy tears filled our eyes, for it had been several years since we had last seen each other. She took us up to her apartment space, and there we shared all the great things and not so great things that had occurred in our lives while we were apart. The children swarmed the apartment and were racing around exploring each room, almost as if there was a hidden treasure in each. The rest of the night we all relaxed over a nice meal and listened to Niva’s funny stories of getting lost in the huge city.
When I finally placed my car into park, I thought I heard a long sigh from its engine, which was exhausted from the lengthy trip beginning in Boston, traveling North on 95 to the tip of Maine, then South again, finding the way to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, on the most redundant route possible. I stepped out of my vehicle and inhaled, tasting the water that I heard, milliseconds later, pounding against the assortment of wooden docks that I had spotted from the highway. Seeing these docks from the steel bridge that peered over the city's boundary had caused me to take the next immediate exit, which, in turn, led me to where I was standing. "It's a windy one today," a passing local said to me, regarding the weather, with a charm I hadn't encountered since leaving the Midwest. I nodded, though maybe more out of approval than agreement, because who was I to know what was and wasn't normal in this foreign city?
High upon a lonely hill surrounded by a great dark forest, stood an ancient, crumbling manor, known as the Haunted House. The windows were all smashed and it looked like the house was used a long time ago and was never used again. The font gates were as old as the hills. It belonged to a greedy old man, he was as short as a stump, he was really grumpy and fat who everyone said he was a wizard. Even though he owned the immense haunted house he didn’t dare to go inside because he was frightened like a child in dark, so he lived in the small cottage in the grounds of the manor, with just his black cat for company. He was as lonely as the master who has go to war, but hews happy, because he had a true love. His true love was gold, and he had plenty of it, for he had found a way to make the haunted house serve him well. He had pinned a notice to the tall rusting gates of the manor, promising a reward of five hundred gold coins to anyone who could spend a whole nigh inside it, and charging them five gold coins for the privilege of trying.
We drive with the windows down, the cool August breeze blows Dellilah’s hair. Baby Charlie sits in his carseat, playing with a red block. Delilah cooes to Charlie, and she dances to the radio station I have. Our new black Cadillac coasts across Hollywood streets. I love my family, and I will propose to Delilah soon, I want her to be my wife so badly. Father thinks it's a terrible idea, we are still very young. He thinks I should wait awhile, especially since Dellilah had Charlie so young. I look at Delilah, her smile reaching her eyes. Delilah screams, “Lawrence!” I look back towards the road and slam on the brakes. It's too late, the Cadillac swerves into the traffic and flips over. I hear Charlie screaming and crying in the back of the car.
a dull grey colour as if it had lost the will to live and stopped
This haunted house in Hagerstown was built long ago. It is the site of a most interesting ghost story, which happened to my friend’s friend’s grandmother. Now while I have heard many stories similar to this, I have never known someone to be involved in one and actually affected by it. My friend’s friend is a Caucasian, 17-year-old, female Christian from Hagerstown. Her dad is a postal worker, and her mother works for the government. The story takes place in the house her grandmother temporarily lived in as a child. I collected this story while I was hanging out with my friend in her room. I happened to mention this assignment, and in comes one of her friends with a story to tell:
Death parted them when the life of his wife was taken from him suddenly. After her death, he left the house and sealed up all of the windows leaving the house empty. After both of them left this world, the dead couple reunited back in their old place of living. Now two ghosts wander through an occupied house that they lived in over a century ago in search of the hidden treasure. The ghosts search and search while the living couple listens and tries to figure out what they are looking for. While the living couple hears the doors open, drawers shut, or whispering throughout the house, they do not feel harmed and the narrator slowly shows the indication of the memories while the dead couple was living. The ghosts worry that the living couple has already found the buried treasure before they had the chance to find it for themselves but keep searching in every room in the house with hope that the treasure is still there. In the end they come upon the living couple asleep in their bed, the treasure was still there in their possession and the light of the heart was the buried treasure.