The car drove past the old and rusted gates.  Ones that were long forgotten by time and had become covered in vines.  Driving up the old winding path, passing miles of dead grass that hadn’t been taken care of in decades.  Dead trees towered in the distance. Finally, we reached the old decrepit house that sat atop the hill. I stared melancholily out them dirty car window.  My mom’s warm hand clutched around mine.

“You’ll be fine dear, it’s only for one night,” She said with a smile that made me feel safe and sound.

I sighed and got out of the dinky car, whilst staring at the molding front porch as a stepped toward it.  Old rusted windchimes clinked against one another and the nearly broken rocking chair rocked against the paint-chipped wood planks.  I shuddered as I walked up the low steps to the old and rotting front door. My mom pushed on the squeaky doorbell. From inside we could hear the faint tune of the doorbell along with shuffling that got louder and louder.  Until, the door opened to reveal my grandmother.

She was a small and bony woman who had eyes that could make a grown man sink into his skin.  Despite her frail appearance, she was quite quick and agile, as well as being quite strong for her size.  I stood behind my mother like a scared puppy. I felt like I was on a rollercoaster in the dark, I didn’t know where it would go next.  Her cold grey eyes locked with mine, goosebumps sprouted all over me. A malicious smile curled her lips and she walked to embrace me.

“I'm sick,” I said backing away.

“Okay sweetpea.  I understand,” Grandmother said with her thick southern accent

“Well I should get going honey.  Promise me you’ll be nice to your grandmother, okay?” Her kind eyes locked with mine.

“Okay I promise,” I muttered giving a small half smile.

I watched her leave the driveway and go out the gates.  In my temporary room, it smelled fouly of death and a decaying body.  On the old nightstand next to the creaky bed, there was a picture of a boy.  He had slicked-back black hair and a boney face and eyes that were sunken in.  His face was as white as a ghost.

“Too bad he left so soon.  He was my precious angel and I loved him more than anyone else.  Anyway dinner’s ready if you want it. We’re having cooked arm-I mean pork tonight,” Grandmother said from the doorway.

I jumped in my skin when her icy voice spoke.

“Oh I don’t eat meat.  And I already ate before I came here,” I replied as my voice trembled with fear.

I went to bed hungry and still feeling extremely uneasy.  I woke up to the floorboards squeaking loudly. I sat up and looked around while I began hyperventilating as my cold breath hit my face.  I clutched my hands to reassure myself I was okay, but then, I saw something at the end of my bed that terrified.

It was the boy from the picture.  He looked like he sickly and frail.  Like a delicate flower, that if he was even touched by someone; he would fall apart.  One of his arms had been unforgivingly ripped from the rest of his body, and the wound dripped blood.  He stared straight into my eyes. The word he croaked next replayed in my head, even years later.

“Run.”