"What is happening?" Mom clutched Dad's hand tightly. KNOCK! KNOCK! The door vibrated from the harsh knocks. We all crawled to the edge of the wall.
"We're leaving!" Kiara took off her stuff. "No!" I sat her back down. She glared at me, for the first time, she glared at me. KNOCK KNOCK! KNOCK KNOCK! KNOCK KNOCK!
"Enough of being scared; we need to check who's causing such a racket and disturbing our peace." Mom stormed off to the kitchen window, which took up an entire side of the wall. The only thing covering it was a thin curtain, and the glass wasn't adequately layered.
"What? Mom, it might be someone with a knife or a gun—they could seriously hurt you if you provoke them!" I screeched. I grabbed my inhaler and shoved it in my pocket, not willing to take any chances.
"Trish, I'm trying to protect our family. You figure out a way to call the authorities, and I'll drive that man away. People like this are usually scared off by some good old-fashioned shouting from the heart, like in the good old days," she said, her face tilted upwards. Was she seriously reminiscing with nostalgia?
God, how delusional is she? It's obviously not human. I could tell from the knocks and the way no one awaited at the door the first time—it was not human. The possibility is very low.
"Mom, it's not safe. Can't you listen to me for once?" I pleaded. She turned to me, her eyes glinting with mischief.
"Trish, I am your mother. Now, I may not know everything about danger and safety, but I'm trying my best! You can't expect me to sit still and look pretty while some monster knocks at our door? This is grand oak, a very rare wood," she mumbled, caressing the edges of the window.
"Mom, there's something I need to tell you about this house." I finally admitted the truth. We're here; we have to prepare ourselves. I can't leave my mother out of this.
"I don't think whoever's knocking is alive. Not currently, at least." I sighed. Grapebox had warned me about this. The house has a mind of its own, and to protect itself, there are 'entities' that want to break your 'spirit'.
The house won't rest until you turn to dust.
"Hmm," she replied, peering out the window. She didn't say anything for a moment, and I feared she might have turned to stone or something. I don't really know anything about the powers they have.
"Mom?" I tugged at her sleeve. She responded by placing a hand on my head. At least she was still alive.
"Mom, what do you see?" I whispered.
"Just a man. He's quite short, though," she joked.
"Did you hear what I said?" I asked again, a little more aggressively, shooing her hand off my head.
"Yeah, about the house being haunted or the man being dead?"
"This is not a joke, Mom!"
"I'm not joking either. I know this house is haunted. And I know why you brought us here," she replied, stroking my head.