Journey #writephoto

This week’s Photo Prompt challenge is from Sue Vincent.

A green hill against a misty, grey sky. Across the top of the hill strides a strangely proportioned figure. His head is bowed and he is carrying a staff.

Sometimes I think I live on a burial ground.

When I bought this piece of land, the old house was torn down and a new one was built. It’s a beautiful, quaint little house that I couldn’t wait to start my retirement journey on. But I couldn’t explain the supernatural activities.

Things in the house have been moved or misplaced. If I set a tea cup down on the end table, read a book, then pick up the tea cup again, it’s not there. It’s on the opposite corner of the coffee table.

Furniture have been moved to all sorts of locations, even when they don’t fit. One time, the dining table was sticking out of the bathroom that was half its size. Chairs were stuck on the wall when I hadn’t put nails on the walls.

On days that I feel like the world is against me, there are writings on every wall in pig’s blood, “DIE.” I don’t have any pigs; just me and my dogs.

Sleeping was impossible. Despite my exhaustion, I turn off the lights every night and they keep turning back on. Then I hear laughter – drunks out of their minds, laughing hysterically, hiccup, and laughing hysterically at their hiccups, the cycle never ending.

One night, Cassie was barking outside, so I went to check it out. I walked several yards from where she was in different directions, and saw nothing. She was barking in the darkness. Next morning, I called all three dogs for breakfast but none of them came. I went outside to look for them, and found Cassie had been mauled while the other two were grieving beside her. This was such a vicious attack. Why didn’t I hear her?

I tried selling the house to retire elsewhere, but no one would buy it. When I realized that I couldn’t sell it, I packed my belongings and my dogs in my car and drove hours away. But when my gas tank was empty, my car came to a stop on my property again. I tried numerous ways to escape – by ambulance, friends, walking off – but I always found myself back here.

One day, I was on my porch and saw a mysterious figure I had never seen before, in broad daylight. It was there one moment, when I blinked, the figure disappeared. I was on high alert, scanning and searching my property for that figure, but I never found it. I returned to my spot on the porch and let my guard down, and the figure reappeared, fled when I blinked.

Sometimes I think that I live on a burial ground. I found that I am wrong. I’ve crossed to the other side to join the party. Look! The next member is arriving right on time.


Thanks for reading.

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