The House Next Door (9 page)

He looked at her with bloodshot eyes. Amanda wondered if he was about to cry.

Amanda and Alyssa couldn't believe what they were seeing. Paul and Steve were scared. Alyssa bit her bottom lip and tilted her head.

“Everyone else leaving too?” Steve asked.

“Actually,” John spoke up, “I think we're going to stay. Who knows what other neat things might be hidden in this house? Maybe there's a secret passageway that leads to a hidden treasure. Why don't you stay?”

“No way,” Steve replied. He pulled on the solid oak door until it finally opened. “See ya!” he called as he ran out of the house. He jumped off the porch, leaping over the wobbly step.

Alyssa went to the door and watched him sprint toward her home. She blinked and he disappeared into the darkness.

Paul scrambled to his feet and brushed the dust
off of his jeans. He left big, gray handprints on his backside.

“I'm still gonna head back too,” he said. Little glass pieces crunched under his feet as he made his way to the door. As soon as he hit the ground outside, he also raced off into the night, slipping away into the shadows.

Alyssa looked at Amanda, and they both broke into a fit of hysterical laughter. Amanda was nearly shrieking as she gasped for air.

“Tough guys,” John quipped.

“Yeah,” Amanda agreed. “And they were so excited to get here earlier.”

After they calmed down, Alyssa remembered the loud crash that came from the floor beneath them. “What do you think crashed when we were in the attic?”

John looked at the girls and smiled. “I guess there's only one way to find out. Let's go see.”

As the four kids walked through the living room, and the hilarity of the last few moments faded away, Alyssa began to feel uneasy again. She felt like she was being watched.

She swiveled her head, expecting to see someone
lurking in the shadows or behind the curtains. Of course there was no one there. She was alone with her sister and her new friends. But the feeling wouldn't go away—the sensation of eyes following her every move grew stronger.

“You know what? I really do think it's time to leave,” she said as they approached the basement door. “We're having a party. John and Michael, you could come with us. You probably noticed our house earlier today. It's right next door. It's the
only
other house on this road.”

“We can't leave yet,” John said. “We need to make sure nothing is broken in the basement. Maybe something fell over.”

“Why?” Alyssa wondered. “This isn't your house.”

“Yeah, but what if someone finds out we were here?” John replied. “We don't want to be blamed for everything that's been broken in this house.”

He smiled at Alyssa and then looked down and shuffled his shoes.

Alyssa sighed.

She wasn't entirely sure she agreed with his logic, but she returned his smile.

“Come on,” Michael urged. “We'll all go down and check it out together.”

Alyssa opened her mouth to protest, but Amanda jumped in before she could utter a word. Now that Paul and Steve were gone, she saw a new opportunity for a midnight kiss.

“Just one minute?” Amanda asked.

She looked at her sister, pleading with her not to ruin anything.

“Okay,” Alyssa agreed. “But let's make it fast.”

The four kids walked toward the basement door in pairs: John walked next to Alyssa while Michael walked closely beside Amanda. When they reached the door, John opened it and led the sisters down a narrow wooden stairway.

The basement smelled dank and stale. The four kids swung their flashlights around, illuminating the dark room.

Alyssa and Amanda looked around with wide eyes. If being in the upstairs rooms of this house wasn't creepy enough, the basement took it to a whole other level.

It was stuffed with relics. Amanda peered at the shelves and shelves of old toys that lined the walls—broken tin
cars with dented and scraped exteriors; clown figurines dressed in faded, torn silk costumes were missing limbs; and a large tarnished music box with a tiny dancer in a black tutu that remained open but had long-since been silenced.

Blankets of dust covered an antique wooden wheelchair and steel chest. An ancient player piano had been shoved into a corner.

But what really made Amanda's skin crawl were the rows and rows of jars.

She walked along the shelf, peering into each one. They were filled with all sorts of things—from nails and bolts to thread and needles. Someone had used them for storage.

She stopped in front of one jar that appeared to be filled with . . . eyeballs. Lots and lots of tiny, round eyeballs.

“Doll's eyes,” John offered, walking up behind her. “We spotted them earlier.”

Amanda simply looked at him and then continued examining the jars. When she approached one that was filled with a gooey, flesh-colored liquid, she stopped again, waiting for John to explain this one.

“I don't know,” he admitted. “Maybe some sort of jam? Or canned food?”

“Alyssa,” Amanda whispered. “Look at all of this stuff. It all must've belonged to the family that lived here—the ones that vanished. If they had moved away all those years ago, why would they have left this stuff here?”

Alyssa picked up a large handmade teddy bear that was coming apart; its stuffing was peeking out at the seams. An eyeball hung off it's face. The thread holding it seemed like it could break at any moment.

“I don't know,” she replied. “Somebody must have loved these things at one time. Now they just sit here collecting dust.”

A small rustling sound jolted Amanda to attention, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end.

“Did you hear that?” she asked. Alyssa nodded skeptically.

The rustling grew louder, loud enough to pinpoint where it was coming from. There was something moving behind the steel chest.

Alyssa stared fiercely at Amanda.

“I told you we should've gone back with Paul and
Steve!” she whispered harshly.

Suddenly, Alyssa screamed. She grabbed Amanda's hand, digging her nails into her sister's skin.

A small black fur-covered paw darted out from behind the steel chest. It ran its claws along the floor and then scurried back behind the chest and out of view. Amanda made a small step toward the chest.

“Amanda!” Alyssa said sternly. “Do not go near that chest.”

Amanda stood frozen. “What should we do?” she asked.

“We should leave,” Alyssa replied.

“Why, because you're scared?” John asked. He walked over to the chest.

“Be careful,” Alyssa warned.

John peeked over the chest and reached his arm behind it. Suddenly, he dropped to the floor. He began to rapidly convulse and pull on his arm, but it was stuck. Something was attacking it from behind the chest!

Alyssa screamed again.

John broke out into fits of laughter, then he calmly stood up.

“Sorry,” he said. “It was just a joke!” He motioned for Alyssa and Amanda to join him. “It's okay,” he told them. “I promise. You can trust me.”

Amanda cautiously walked over to where John was standing.

She peered behind the chest and gasped. A small black cat, wearing a red leather collar, was dashing back-and-forth while playfully pouncing on a crumbled ball of newspaper.

“It's just a cat!” Amanda squealed. She had never been so pleased to see a cat in her life. She bent down to stroke its fur, and it purred in delight.

Alyssa lightened up and joined her sister in petting the animal and scratching under its chin. Amanda began to tease it, tossing the newspaper and watching it rush to attack it, when Alyssa remembered how infuriated she was with John and Michael. They were really starting to get under her skin.

She stood up and looked them in the eyes. “That wasn't funny!” she told them.

“It was sort of funny,” Michael replied. Amanda was about to argue back when she heard a small whimpering echo coming from the darkest corner of the basement.

The whimpering turned into full sobs. It sounded like . . . a child. Amanda gazed at the corner. Her curiosity overcame her, and she slowly began to walk in the direction of the soft sobs.

“Who's there?” she demanded.

A head of dirty-blond hair emerged from the hollow corner. A girl with dirt swiped across her face crawled into the light.

“Anne!” shouted Alyssa. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Her sister shook as she cried.

“I wanted want to play a prank on you,” Anne explained. Her face was streaked with tears. “A prank for leaving me behind. I'm always getting left behind. I decided to sneak into the house.”

“You followed us?” Alyssa asked. “How did you get in here?”

Anne nodded her head. “I went through the basement
door, so you wouldn't see me behind you. But it was so dark down here. And then I saw glowing eyes!”

“It was just the cat, Anne!” Alyssa told her.

“I didn't know that! I tried to leave, and I got spooked!” she explained. “I ran back to the door, but it slammed shut and I couldn't get out. I pulled and pulled, but it was stuck.”

Anne crumbled into a heap on the floor. She was cold and terrified.

“You must have been so scared,” Alyssa said, kneeling down and wrapping her arms around her youngest sister.

After all these years of admitting Anne was the bravest sister, Alyssa couldn't help but wonder how a little cat had positively petrified her.

“I was not!” Anne blurted out between tearful sobs. Alyssa looked at her youngest sister. “Okay, yeah,” Anne admitted. “I was scared. Really scared.”

Alyssa brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her little sister's face.

“I hid when I heard you coming down the stairs,” Anne continued. “I didn't want you to see me so afraid of an old basement.”

“Anyone would be scared,” Alyssa said. “We heard the door slam, but I'm sure it was just the wind that did it. There's really nothing to be afraid of in this house. It's just old and abandoned is all. No ghosts here.”

“I didn't feel so brave,” Anne replied.

“Not brave?” Alyssa asked, exaggerating her surprise. “I would never have come over here by myself. Never mind in the dark! You're braver than anyone I know, Anne.”

They sat silently for a moment. Anne had stopped crying and her previously short, jagged breaths were now calm and slow.

Alyssa stood, and she and Amanda helped Anne to her feet.

“Meet our new friends,” Alyssa told Anne.

“I'm John.”

“And I'm Michael.”

Both boys shook Anne's hand. Anne noticed how polite they were—much nicer than the kids she knew from school.

“This is our youngest sister, Anne,” Alyssa told the boys. She was relieved to see Anne manage a smile.

Alyssa was also glad Anne was starting to feel better,
but she wasn't entirely sure that her words of reassurance were true.

Alyssa thought back to the loud crash that had followed the slamming of the door. She looked around to see what could have caused such a racket. Although there were an overwhelming number of items in the basement, the knickknacks and pieces of furniture were somewhat neatly organized, as if someone had taken great care to keep them placed as they had been all those years ago.

That was when Alyssa spied the objects that must have fallen and caused the crash.

She walked to the far side of the room and saw that an entire shelf of large, lifelike porcelain dolls had fallen to the ground.

She reached down and picked one up. A jagged crack ran along the doll's face.

Alyssa looked deeper to examine the damage. Maybe the dolls could be fixed. Maybe she could even bring them back to her mom. They might be worth something.

As she brought it closer, the doll's closed lids sprung open; its pupils rolled back and forth in its porcelain head.

Shocked, Alyssa dropped it and the doll shattered into a thousand pieces among the others. She watched as the tiny shards bounced and finally settled.

Then, all at once, ten sets of tiny eyes from broken porcelain faces popped open and stared back at her.