The Room

The Room

The upstairs room in the house opposite, above the one where the geraniums are, often has its blind drawn. Even on a sunny day like this morning. From where I am, I can see the stairs that lead up to the room, and every now and then someone goes up there. During my childhood my friend and I used to tell horrifying stories about the room and the man who lives there, my theory about the room was that there was a deranged serial killer who lived there and he collected precious possession?s of his brutally murdered victims.
I sat down on a wooden coffee table covered in cup rings, from previously damp mugs, and I stared at the room that has caused so much frustration and disorientation. I began to contemplate going over there to find out the truth, but my mind filled with stress as I trembled with fear so I did not go on the journey to solve my minds curiosity.
As the sun traveled to the other end of the earth, my body was disturbed as I heard cries of anger and torture pass my street and into my house. I instantly jumped to my feet and headed for my textured wooden door, the wood was cedar if I recall. I grabbed the brass doorknob and it sent a cold shiver down my spine, my mother always told me that it was a sign from god that something tragic has or is going to happen in my miserable life.
As the door opened I was overwhelmed with a disturbing noise similar to a gun shot it came from the room across the road, then all went silent. My body suddenly had a rush of adrenaline and I paced across the road and up the sandstone stairs, to the entrance of the room. The entrance of this room was extravagantly designed with marble carvings of triumphant medieval warriors, which were to overpowering, making you feel small and insignificant.
As I knocked on the door, the force of my hand pushed the door open, revealing the corpse of the man whom lived in this domain. His limp and lifeless body was seated against the wall, with a large spray of blood on the wall behind him, and a small trail of red dripping out of his forehead. The gun laid on the floor next to his body, the silver texture imprinted itself upon my retinas, causing me to blackout from my surroundings for just one second to let my mind think. I went into shock and disbelief, that this was not real.
I felt dirty and violated as if Satan had penetrated my sole and put these traumatic images into my head, turning my life upside down and showing me the real world. I noticed a letter in his blood stained hand, it said ?I?m sorry Veronica?.
I came to my senses and grabbed the phone, but contemplated calling the police as the first tear of distress rolled down my face, but this was soon overcome as I dialed the emergency service. I mumbled to the operator about what had happened and what location I was at, she realised I was in shock and soothed me with her voice. I dropped the phone and held myself in the fetal position and tried to rock my troubles away.
I heard loud sirens outside the room but I did not bother to even try to think who it was. About ten police officers at once entered the room, all with shock and trauma on their faces. A tall, slim, and attractive female police officer came to comfort me with coffee and a blanket, she walked me out of the room, which I would never see again.
Later on in the day I gained the strength to ask the officer who was Veronica. She told me that the man and her were married and one day they were out walking, they were crossing the main highway, he crossed first then Veronica, she didn?t see the truck coming down the hill, she died instantly. The man watched the truck come down the hill and hit her, he blames himself for her deaf because he didn?t warn her.
I felt angry with myself for what happened, if I had got over my fear I could have prevented all this from happening, his death is my entire fault. Why didn?t I visit him in the morning? It?s my fault. Why did I choose the wrong path? Why?

The End


Thankyou for reading this story, i would really like you to rate it please because im a writer who has no confidence in my work, and your ratings will be of great support.