The Residence Still Stands Part I
It started as a blur. Main Street physically shifted while the loop pauses its constant recycle. The needle lifted from our record, yet remained hanging over the track of Main Street. There we were walking along the infinite rotating space, with no control over when that needle should drop again. ‘Twas a new feeling to walk among the dead air, away from Main Street’s hectic dance, and enchanting allure. We fell into places far from enchanting. This particular area had once been inhabited by the norm of society, as well as past friends. It once resembled a scene from movies of perfection, gardens and hedge bushes in front of every house. Each house identical, with only colors and numbers to make a distinction. At streets end came an intersection, where wealth once lived in regal mansions. Galas and parties held every night, the cities wealth swarmed in this area. Then the nature of these streets changed. The wealth remained the same, while the outlying streets worsened. As if a poison had reached the neighborhoods heart, all at once the houses went into horrible disrepair. When problems arose, owners simply left, letting others deal with any problems. And this soon became a normal process, for nobody would actually fix the problems, they would just create more, allowing the next owner to worry about it. The infectious regional laziness had finally reached this area. Owners quickly came and left, using the houses like prostitutes, lowering and lowering the neighborhood to what it is now: a commune for the homeless and vile creatures of this town. As the outlying neighborhood fell into disarray, a similar, yet slower, process began within the wealthy sections. And back in real life, we were walking among this stories final products. We were safe none the less, just surrounded by a group far different from ourselves, a group too similar to ourselves. They would appear in the doors, look upon us, and then retreat, respecting the goals of our journey.
It was not long before my four friends and I arrived at the epicenter of nothingness; my personal peak of forgotten memory. Well preserved by forces unknown, we stood in front of a grand mansion, the wealth I was connected with. The brick exterior was still maintained, even as the supports were then starting to crumble. The white porch awning lay scattered on what had once also been a front garden. An elm tree still stood in front, but a metal pole that once flew the flags of many pasts now lay entangled among the branches. The base of the pole was still fastened to the earth, with jagged edges from where it was cut. Nostalgia began screaming to me, but an exact memory could not reply. The frantic night air was jumbling my mind. I gazed upon the home for answers, while the friends stared in shock.
This house stood 5 floors high, and stretched back behind night’s hidden curtain. Far off across a dark distance, past hour’s edge, there glimmered the lights of Main continuing their celestial dance, swaying in the crisp breeze. Minutes of silence elapsed. There remained five figures gazing at the abandoned house; one shadow now crawled towards the door, slowly stepping and silently searching soft ground for memories remnants, the pieces shattered throughout this residence. Still this lowly pathetic figure crawled forward, further from the supporting shadows. There they stood, in a state of catatonic terror, eyes glazed over. A similar look could be read as a book on each face, the title Intrigue, the genre Horror. Ruin for no apparent reason. The remains of a kingly home, slowly degrading with its current inhabitants. A city verging on bankruptcy, too empathetic to realize the degradation among its inhabitants.
Something had failed, but nobody could pinpoint what, even though feelings of guilt and hatred rose through each body, and a new feeling of disunity spread amongst the group.
It was not long before my four friends and I arrived at the epicenter of nothingness; my personal peak of forgotten memory. Well preserved by forces unknown, we stood in front of a grand mansion, the wealth I was connected with. The brick exterior was still maintained, even as the supports were then starting to crumble. The white porch awning lay scattered on what had once also been a front garden. An elm tree still stood in front, but a metal pole that once flew the flags of many pasts now lay entangled among the branches. The base of the pole was still fastened to the earth, with jagged edges from where it was cut. Nostalgia began screaming to me, but an exact memory could not reply. The frantic night air was jumbling my mind. I gazed upon the home for answers, while the friends stared in shock.
This house stood 5 floors high, and stretched back behind night’s hidden curtain. Far off across a dark distance, past hour’s edge, there glimmered the lights of Main continuing their celestial dance, swaying in the crisp breeze. Minutes of silence elapsed. There remained five figures gazing at the abandoned house; one shadow now crawled towards the door, slowly stepping and silently searching soft ground for memories remnants, the pieces shattered throughout this residence. Still this lowly pathetic figure crawled forward, further from the supporting shadows. There they stood, in a state of catatonic terror, eyes glazed over. A similar look could be read as a book on each face, the title Intrigue, the genre Horror. Ruin for no apparent reason. The remains of a kingly home, slowly degrading with its current inhabitants. A city verging on bankruptcy, too empathetic to realize the degradation among its inhabitants.
Something had failed, but nobody could pinpoint what, even though feelings of guilt and hatred rose through each body, and a new feeling of disunity spread amongst the group.