I knew there was something funny about that house the moment I stepped into it. It was Saturday, and I was off of school for our fall break. The autumn leaves were swirling and dancing as if they had a life of their own. I was heading to a friend of my grandmother’s, a woman by the name of Kelly Anderson. I was asked to give her some company, and since my grandmother was getting on in her years, she could no longer visit her childhood friend as often as she would have liked. From what I had heard from my mother, Ms. Anderson was a very kind, polite kind of person. They described her as pretty, yet in the way of an elderly person, someone who was mature, and knew quite a lot about the world around her. As I walked through the forest that separated her street from mine, I wondered what her house would look like. I imagined a little cottage, snug and secure, with just enough space for a little old lady to live in. I was so caught up with my thoughts that when I looked up, I found myself in the shadow of a large mansion.

I glanced at the bronze numbers that adorned the house, and found, to my surprise, that they were the same ones that I had been given from my grandmother. I wandered to the driveway, and walked up the wide steps that lead to a beautiful set of mahogany French doors. I lifted the large brass knocker, and let it fall with a resounding thump. I heard shuffling feet, and soon I found myself face to face with an old lady that I presumed was Kelly Anderson. I introduced myself to her, and she welcomed me in to her spacious home.

I wandered into the large ballroom, and found a couch to sit down on. The old lady followed me, and sat down on the armchair directly across from me. We chatted and talked for a little over an hour, and soon I was convinced that she was almost as kind and as grandmotherly as my own grandmother. I rose to leave, and Kelly Anderson asked if she could show me something. Of course, I relenting I could never deny anything to the sweet old lady. She led me up a grand staircase, and down a wide hallway. I finally was led into a room that was almost completely dark, with a few rays of light filtering through the heavy blackout curtains. I heard sounds of movement that did not belong to the old lady. Delicate noises, fabric being brushed up against the walls. All of the sudden the old lady was next to me, and smiling almost demonically. I was so frightened that I fainted and fell to the ground.

I awoke to the old lady gently mopping my forehead with a cloth, and the afternoon sunlight was streaming through the now open curtains. The sounds were still present, and I sat up to see what could be making the mysterious noises. I looked toward the celling and saw dozens of birds flittering around the room. They were songless, but the brushing of their wings against the celling was the noises I head heard earlier.

I turned to the old lady who had a rapturous smile on her face, and I recognized it as the same smile she had been wearing earlier, but in the darkness I had misjudged the intent. She faced me and explained that this was her favorite room in the house. Her husband’s hobby was bird watching, and she had the room created so she would have a memory of him, even though he had passed 5 years ago. I expressed my love of the room, and she gave me permission to come and visit whenever I wanted to.

As I walked out the door, I thought about how what could have been a terrifying experience had turned into a beauty filled, amazing experience. I thanked Kelly Anderson, and turned on my way, ready to tell my grandmother all that had happened.