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Writer's Block: If these walls could talk
Nov. 12th, 2009 12:01 pm[Error: unknown template qotd]
I can actually answer this one from experience, in a way. While not the home of my dreams, I rented a house here in Cushing for a while that always felt uneasy to me. I rented it purely because I was desperate and it was in my price range. After moving in, I sank into a deep, deep suicidal depression. My brother came over and almost committed suicide in the kitchen. Smog suffered horrible nightmares. I would resist going home, staying later and later at work. I started drinking, at home, alone, which I don't do and had never done before. I would hear things that weren't there, and I would hear this constant ticking in the wall that was starting to drive me crazy.
One day, a friend and long time Cushing resident dropped me off after I went out with them, and he casually said, "Oh, you live in the Murder House."
I boggled and asked for clarification.
He explained that one of the last murders that happened in Cushing (they don't happen here often) was a man who killed his wife and then himself, in front of their children.
Yeah. I moved out as soon as possible. I've always wondered what might have happened had I stayed there, and I'm pretty sure it would have been something horrible.
When I was a child, we lived in a house in Scotland that was very haunted, but there wasn't the same sense of malice and anger in it...more playful and prankster like.
I can actually answer this one from experience, in a way. While not the home of my dreams, I rented a house here in Cushing for a while that always felt uneasy to me. I rented it purely because I was desperate and it was in my price range. After moving in, I sank into a deep, deep suicidal depression. My brother came over and almost committed suicide in the kitchen. Smog suffered horrible nightmares. I would resist going home, staying later and later at work. I started drinking, at home, alone, which I don't do and had never done before. I would hear things that weren't there, and I would hear this constant ticking in the wall that was starting to drive me crazy.
One day, a friend and long time Cushing resident dropped me off after I went out with them, and he casually said, "Oh, you live in the Murder House."
I boggled and asked for clarification.
He explained that one of the last murders that happened in Cushing (they don't happen here often) was a man who killed his wife and then himself, in front of their children.
Yeah. I moved out as soon as possible. I've always wondered what might have happened had I stayed there, and I'm pretty sure it would have been something horrible.
When I was a child, we lived in a house in Scotland that was very haunted, but there wasn't the same sense of malice and anger in it...more playful and prankster like.
