This piece of revision follows a man as he tries to decipher the meaning behind the strange house on Maple Street. Follow the twists and turns as a story, which is based off a black and white photo of a house, as it takes you on a journey. This mystery will enthrall you and leave you wanting more.

The House on Maple Street

Three blocks down and two blocks to the left was the house on Maple Street. Nobody knew who lived there, or what lived there, but we knew something lived there. The front yard was always trashed at night the attic light would always be on. When people walked down the street they would be sure to not linger in front of that house. People were especially nervous about this house because nobody could remember when it was put there. In the old town records, there were always photos and dates of the house, but never when the house was built and who bought it. What was really strange was that in the oldest photos of the city, the house was always there and it was always old looking and worn down. It didn’t make sense. My discovery of these things only led to the weirdest experience of my life, and the rehashing of old memories that just gave way to more trouble.

One day I was walking down Maple Street when I stopped in front of the auspicious house. I had the weirdest feeling something was watching me. I looked up at the house attic where I saw the faintest shadows of a person looking down at me. Quickly, I walked away, never raising my head and never looking back.

The next morning I flipped on the television to find that an entire family had been kidnapped. This included a mother, father, 12 year old, and their 7 month old baby. I let out a gasp of despair thinking to myself what has this world come to, that they think this is okay. I walked to the kitchen to get myself a cup of coffee, always exactly one cup, decaf, no sugar, lots of cream. While I was putting the cream in I heard a thump on the door which startled me and made me throw the cream everywhere. I stepped outside to see what the noise was. It was only the newspaper hitting the front door.

“That’s strange; the mailman normally throws it on my driveway.”

I picked up the paper and looked up. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something looked slightly different about the neighborhood, but didn’t know what it was. I did find it a bit strange that I could see the brown house from way over here, when I couldn’t see it before, but I shrugged it off. I shuffled back inside and closed the door, however, immediately I heard a scream from outside. I ran to the phone to dial 911 to report what I had heard, but the phones were dead. Confused, I ran outside and gasped at what I saw. The entire neighborhood had disappeared. Every tree, house, and road had disappeared, except for the creepy house on Maple Street.

“What the hell is going on?” I yelled.

In the distance the front door of the house opened where the faint shadow of a person was cast against the door. The shadow disappeared into the house, but the door remained open. Scared out of my mind and unsure what to do next, I made my way over to the door. When I reached the front yard the door slammed shut. I opened the yard gate and slowly walked towards the door. I turned the door handle and walked inside.

The house was old and musty inside; it contained no furniture, and smelled terrible. I heard a door slam upstairs, followed by a shriek and a baby’s cry. I remembered the news report of the missing family earlier and ran up the stairs.

“Don’t worry, I’m coming,” I yelled. “Help is here!”

I busted through the door, but there was nothing in the room.

“I can’t believe this, where are they?”

The door downstairs slammed and the couple ran out the front door. To my surprise the neighborhood had returned to normal and it was a bright and sunny day. A passing man looked up at the house and saw me in the window. He then quickly ran away. I couldn’t believe it, why would he be scared of me? Then I realized, this was my house.