The second time I visited this abandoned house, I took my mom with me on a Saturday afternoon drive on a brisk December day. The first thing I noticed when I turned off of the highway was the deep rut dug into the turn off and the front tires of my truck missed them by 1/4 of an inch. I was determined. I parked and walked around the chasm, leaving my mom with my truck.
The first time I was on the property I mentioned I was with friends and family. I didn’t feel uneasy at all, however this time was completely different. It was mid-December and I forgot my mittens in the truck, like an idiot. The walk down the dirt road was around a half block, and all I took with me was my phone. Glancing over my shoulder, I started down the path toward the splintered beauty. My mom read her book, patiently awaiting my return.
Something felt off. I was unsure if I was just worried about the owners getting angry about my presence or if it was something more. A writer and an artist with no ill intentions toward their property, I hoped if they made an appearance I would be able to convince them of my innocent creative curiosity. I honestly had no thought at the time about the paranormal. I usually think the spiritual realm, but in this case I really had not considered it. I think since I had already been there once before and the house seemed fine, I dismissed the possibility.
The entire time I shot pictures, my gaze shifted from the skeletal trees and back to the house. It felt like someone else was there with me. The wind bit into my exposed flesh, turning it bright red, and my fingers stung. My toes were numb. I could no longer hold my phone. I needed to get out of the wind – just for a couple of minutes.
I stepped inside the doorway to shield myself from the wind, for just a few moments. While standing inside, I decided to snap a few more pictures. My brand new IPhone flashed the big red empty battery signal, and then died. I pressed the power button more than once, but the phone was completely unresponsive. It had just had over a half of a battery. I glanced back toward the truck. All of my other equipment sat in the back floorboard, nestled next to my mittens.
I stayed inside long enough to warm the sensation back into my fingertips. Standing inside the doorway, it was all I could do to remain inside as long as I did. The term uneasy did not begin to describe it. I suddenly had to get to my truck as quickly as possible, and I did not care what I did to get there.
I’m not sure what was in the house. All I know is Nebraska is way too cold to be shooting pictures without your mittens away from your vehicle for too long all alone! By the time I reached my truck, my mom had started to worry. She tried to text, and called a couple of times.
I’ve thought of this house often since my last visit, and have dreamt about it. I can picture Michael Myers peering from around the corner, waiting for his next victim to show up…an unsuspecting amateur photographer.
Trish Eklund is the owner and creator of Abandoned, Forgotten & Decayed. She is also the owner and founder of Family Fusion Community, an online community and resource for divorced and remarried parents, step-parents, same-sex parents, adopting parents, and all other non-traditional parents. Trish has been featured on www.playground-magazine.com, www.bigblendedfamily.com, and Her View From Home. Follow her on Twitter: @trishiewriter, Google +, Pinterest, Instagram, and, LinkedIn.