the scary house : part i

There used to be —

This scary house. It was the house all the adults told you not to play around because the structure might be weak and you could fall through a floor and never get out. It was the kind of house kids would tell each other stories about. Stories about people with machetes and hooks instead of hands and chainsaws and blood and murder and dead little kids.

A long long long time ago I was the kid who got in the first car in the scariest roller coaster.

I do not know why. Maybe it was just that important to me to be brave back then.

I do not give a damn about being brave now. I learned somewhere along the line brave just means scared and doing it anyway and these days I need a damn good reason to do it anyway if I am scared. But back then it mattered to me to never look scared. So —

Me and a friend headed to the scary house you could fall through floors in. We did not expect to fall through floors — or see ghosts. And there were a lot of ghost stories about that house. But we were tough kids who knew adults made stuff up all the time and we were there to prove nothing scared us and we went into that house to prove we were braver than anyone.

 

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to be continued….