The Girl and The House by Gregory Harvey

(1 rating) Rate this Story (5 best) 1 2 3 4 5

Eagerly, she reached for the door handle. As Isabelle found it, she almost recoiled from its frozen metal grasp, but held on long enough to twist it. Isabelle pushed on the door, opening it about three inches before the door began to scratch against the floor boards. The friction was enough to almost stop it completely, but Isabelle managed to move it back a bit more, before slipping inside the house and out of the rain. She shut the door behind her.

The entire house felt abandoned, as Isabelle imagined it had been for a very long time. There was no furniture in the first room she had stepped into, just marks on the floor where sideboards, chairs and tables had once been. Miraculously, however, the sound from outside had been cut out completely, even the racket of the iron roof. The only thing Isabelle could here were the drops of water falling from her own body as they hit the floor. The torch light bounced proudly through the house.
Isabelle continued moving, discovering a kitchen and a bedroom. The bedroom door had been held shut by a rusted bolt on the outside of the door. There was no padlock on it, but Isabelle was left to wonder why it was there. If it could only be secured from the outside... what was it locking in? She had snapped the bolt backwards and shoved the door open, relieved to find that there was only a bed, old with cobwebs laced across its joints, sitting in the middle of the room. Surprisingly it was still made, although the sheets had accumulated a thin layer of dust.
Their was something very strange in the kitchen however. The room consisted of only a scratched and stained bench, a wood stove that had seen better days, and a table with three chairs tucked into it. At the head of the table, though, was a bowl of soup.
Isabelle stared at that bowl for a long time. It was very strange indeed. The steam rising from it appeared to be the only thing living in an abandoned, and forgotten, house. Isabelle was aware of the growing pain in her stomach. She hadn't eaten in... how long? Days? The decision was a quick one, aside from reservations.
She sat at the head of the table, and lifted the bowl of soup to her mouth. At first she took only a tentative sip of it. But then, after realizing that it tasted quite good, Isabelle took a larger mouthful. It did not take her long to drink the whole bowl dry, spilling much of it on herself in her gluttony. Outside, meanwhile, the rain continued to pour.

Isabelle could not have said how long she had been sitting at the table. After devouring the bowl of soup, and placing it back in the table's center, Isabelle simply lost herself. That was until...
Knock, knock.
The sound had echoed outwards from the front door. At first Isabelle did not register it, but then the knocking came again, and again. She rose to her feet. Hide? Run? Investigate? Instead she waited. She waited for the knocking to sound out again. After five minutes (of standing as still as she possibly could) he noise had not repeated itself.
Isabelle managed to move her feet and walked into the first room.