The House

I’m standing in front of an old house, made of unpainted, dark wood. It’s on a hill. It’s daytime. My friend drives up to the house. She’s driving a station wagon. I haven’t seen her in a long time. I’m happy to see her. I think, “Since she’s here now, I don’t have to wait til later to visit her.”

Inside the house. It’s old. Two or three stories. My friend isn’t there. I panic a little. But I remember in the past, I never had to look for her. We always found each other. So I trust it will happen again.

I go upstairs. They aren’t stairs, but an escalator. It’s like a department store, but the interior is still the same old wood as the rest of the house. At the top of the escalator, there is an entry to the left. I walk into the room.

It’s a large room. There are clothing racks with clothes haning on them. I see her. She is picking out clothes to buy. I’m relieved. We leave the house.

She packs the station wagon. She drives away, down the hill. She’s gone.

I’m standing in front of the house. I walk back in.

It feels dark inside. In the room, there is a small table with a red sofa near it. Everything is dusty and old. There is a presence.

A little girl is standing next to the sofa. She’s wearing a dress. She’s a ghost. She says she needs my help. She says there’s another ghost in the house…upstairs. She needs me to help her escape.

I turn to look around me, in case the other ghost is there. As I do, I notice that the girl starts to change. She grows taller. Her face becomes hideous. When I turn to face her again, she slowly changes back. I realize what’s happening. There is no other ghost.

I don’t remember what happens next.