The door opened with a resounding echo that seemed to fill the place. The room I entered was vacant, it had cobwebs freely attached to the walls. Roaches were marching on the floor, acting like they owned the place. The cracked glass window brought light to the well worn floor and the peeling paint was quite visible. The walls were once filled with pictures and memories but now it’s filled with cobwebs and dust. The new air gave life to a stuffiness that entrapped the room. The faded white sheets were once new furniture but now they were drowning in dust.
I walked my way into a different room. That room was even worse than the first one. There were at least ten different kinds of bugs in it. Cereal and honey were scattered on the floor. I was extremely disgusted after what I had just seen. The bed looked like it had been split open by a katana and the cotton from the sliced blood was scattered across the room. Mice rested themselves on the bed which had seen much better days.
I decided I was disgusted enough and shouldn’t explore more of a house which looked older than a world war 2 veteran. As I walked myself out of the door I spotted a diary. The diary belonged to the old house owner, in it he had written all his memories. There were at least a hundred memories written in it. As I had read enough and marched towards the door, I realised this house still carries all the memories.
ns216.73.216.253da2
and then Add to home screen.