April 8th, 2001
All I could hear was the ticking of the clock, as we sat waiting for the doctor to come in with the results. The ticking just got faster and louder as I thought my heart was going to pound right through my chest. For the rest of my life the word “Cancer” is going to remind me of the smell of hand sanitizer, the awful sound of the rubber gloves as the doctor slides them on his hands, the uncomfortable plastic chairs that the nurse brought in since there were not enough seats in the room, the rustling of the paper stretched across the examining table that made a noise every time my mother moved, and the tears that just wouldn’t stop rolling out of my eyes. It is April 8th and I just found out that my mother was diagnosed with Cancer. The only dry eye in the room was hers, and that was pretty typical for her because she didn’t want to worry the rest of us. It was one of the worse days of my life when the doctor gave us the news that my mom was diagnosed with Leukemia. After the countless phone calls to doctors in the area, many silent family dinners, and my dad realizing that he needed to step up and truly be the leader in our family in the time of need; he came to one conclusion; we would move. I didn’t know what to think; Alex’s and my life was here in Texas.
There is no treatment in this area for my mother, so my father had decided that we’re moving to Philadelphia on Saturday and that was the final decision. The doctors told us that the area would be in her best interest. I don’t know how to handle it. She means everything to me and seeing her always stuck on a hospital bed, waited on hand and foot completely helpless, she just looked so pale with wet drips of sweat rolling down her face but yet feels cold. I could only imagine what she is going through right now. There was knocking at my door. It was Alex.
“I can help you through this; we need to be strong for mom”, said Alex.
I explained, “I just need time to adjust to everything. This was just thrown on us. It’s not something any of us expected at all Alex.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. If you ever need me you know. I am here for you.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
“Well listen, it’s time to leave for Philadelphia. Lets go.”
April 22, 2001
The drive to Philadelphia took us about 25 hours. We took many windy roads, the back way of getting to where our new home is going to be. All I saw were farms upon farms. It was actually beautiful, watching the horses run the fields. It had the most exquisite sun set but the ride seemed so long, as if we were in the van for days. We finally arrived and I got out of the car to tour the house, I didn’t expect what came about my very eyes. It was a huge house. It was beautiful. An old fashioned house but yet it was classy. The house looked as if it reached the sky. Inside there were pictures upon pictures hanging among the walls. There were pictures of what seemed like a family. They were ordered so perfectly; exact like a professional portrait. Then I came to the expressions they had on their faces, the look was miserable. Then I came to my room, which happened to be in the basement of the house. It was cold, wet and gave me dreary feelings as I stepped through the door. When I entered I saw another room but had no idea on where it led. I walked over to find out, but the door was locked. It was a long drive and late, so I was just going to wait until tomorrow to check it out. I shut off the lights preparing for bed but it just bothered me too much. I had to find out what was in that other room.

I looked around my room and found items that were left over from the previous family; they never had the chance to move out. Story told they never survived but I don’t know how accurate the info was or even know what it exactly meant. It could just be some myth. I scattered through the room as fast as I could, then I came to a little metal rod that would fit perfectly in the door. Before I had the chance to get up, I heard a shrieking of the hinges. I got up and ran over towards the door that was now open. My curiosity just grew more and more. The first thing that caught my eye when I walked in was all of the instruments hanging along the walls. The room was filled with dust everywhere. Seems to be that the area hadn’t been used in decades. At the center of the room sat a patients table. It brought so many memories back from when we were in the hospital with my mom. It brought back more than memories, it brought back what I would never want to relive.
I started to take a closer look at the room and came across a hole in the wall. I reached my hand through the drywall. All I could feel were cob webs, but I put it in just a little bit further and found a small box. As I pulled it out I blew the dust off that had been piling on top of it. After I did that, it revealed a symbol. It looked in the shape of a face but the face had no eyes. It had to of been some type of clue of what was to come next. I opened the box and came to dried up pieces of scalp with strands of hair still attached. I was so disgusted I tossed the box aside as fast as I could. I thought that I was going to be sick. I went to run out of the room but the door was shut and locked. It must have shut while my curiosity got the best of me. I couldn’t get out and all that was left to do was panic. I felt like I was trapped in a room with dead parts of a human being and the smell was just awful. Who knows what else was in there; all I wanted to do was to just get out. I shook the door as fast and hard as I could but still nothing. When I finally stood back the door released itself.

I tried going to my room and lying down, as if nothing ever happened but that was nearly impossible to do. I needed to find out what that room was for and why it was there. I went back through all the stuff left behind in the room again to look for any other clues. When I took another look under my bed I found some pictures in a tin wrapped up in a band. The pictures were old and tore all up but I could still identify what they were. I found a picture that was a family portrait. It included the grandfather, grandmother, parents, 2 daughters, and a son. On the back was a list of all the names. For some odd reason the grandfathers name stood out to me, Theodore Delaroche. I looked him up on my lap top. I found several articles. Maybe he was famous. In this one article it said that he lived in Africa for 10 years, he was a doctor for the sick who couldn’t afford help. He did many good deeds when he lived there. Then after spending 10 years in Africa he moved to Philadelphia because he was no longer able to practice medicine. He was caught performing exorcisms on one of his patients that he believed there was a demon within. What I found in the basement was his room. The place where I found many pictures of him holding his equipment proudly. It had listed all his good deeds. Then I kept reading. He was the least expected. I don’t think people perceived the real him though. Theodore changed into a complete different person after his move from when he performed the exorcism the demon transferred to him and he was tortured. All that he could take it out on was others. He was accused of murder in 1882. It stated that there were many souls of human beings tortured in this house, but the bodies were never found. The only place I could imagine they would be was in this house buried among these floors, the walls, and even the ground. “Hey, Alex come here now!” I explained.
“Yeah what do you need?”
“Do you have any idea what has happened in this house?”





“No. What are you talking about Kyle?” Questioned Alex.
“Well take a look at this. There were many people murdered within this house!”
“Kyle, you’re crazy! There is no way this is such a beautiful house.”
“Why am I the only one that sees this? I can’t burden mom with this.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Never mind Alex!” I said defeated.
April 23, 2001
I need to figure this out. I took a break for a while to gather myself. After composing myself I went to check on my weak mother. She looked so pale with sweat just dripping down her face. I felt so helpless when it came to her. It just breaks me seeing her in this condition, after I had been so used to her being so strong, independent and fearless. I didn’t have the heart to tell her what has been happening.

I thought that we needed some family time. We were letting it go with everything that had been going on with her. I thought that we should spend time with our mom like it was our last. You never know what will come with the next day, so we had dinner all together as a family. I thought it was going to be peaceful and bonding but I was wrong. The spirits had interfered. Seven ghosts had appeared and circled around the table. They looked so angry. I happened to notice that all of the eyes of the spirits had flames in them but one, a young boy,
who reminded me of my mom, pale, miserable, and sick. It looked as if he had a cancer. He was the only one to survive the fire. Oh no. I just realized something. “Alex, I need you now! Remember how I told you about all of those murders that occurred here? I think its happening again!!! Alex we are next to DIE!” I said.
“What are you talking about? We are going to die?”
“Take a look at all of these articles. It all matches us perfectly but one thing and that is why this house is still here or better yet, how.” It all makes a bit of sense now. The family that lived here 20 years ago they had moved into this same house because their son had become diagnosed with cancer and this was in the best area to receive treatment. The article also had mentioned something about a house fire here. The house was burnt to the ground but was found standing again the next day when the police came to investigate. The only one to survive was the little boy that had cancer.
“Alex said, we need to do something and something fast!”
“Well you said that there was a fire, maybe they tried to destroy the house from all of the souls that have been keeping it alive all of this time.”
“Kyle we need to go into the basement and see if we can find any more clues to tell us how to finally and for eternity get rid of this house.” When we walked into the room there was a squeaky bored that Alex stepped on, so we pulled it up and found bodies filled throughout the floor boards, then the souls flew up and scattered all threw the room. There was Jaime Johnson, age 42. The most successful guy known who found out he had cancer, put his business on hold to move into this house so that he could receive treatment and was killed by this murderer on April 9th, 1878. That man had so much going for him. Then there was Caleb Trout age 26. He was told that he had cancer so he moved into this same house. He had a family and was so young. They were just starting their lives but they didn’t live long enough to grow old as a family. I could see every life that the man took from these young people. It sickened me. There had to of been over thousands of them. They were let free to move on now and have peace. “Alex the next part in the article is where we die, we need to move fast!
April 24th, 2001
“We need tons and tons of gasoline!” said Alex. We found two gas cans sitting in the garage. Alex and I ran through the house dumping gasoline everywhere and anywhere that we could, not missing one little spot. Mom was already outside. All that was left was my dad, Alex, and I so we went through and lit sections on fire but when we went to escape, the house wouldn’t let us. We were stuck with no way out. The house had blocked every exit imaginable. I knew that was it, we weren’t making it out. We gave up it just was impossible. I realized we were gone when we were looking down upon the house as it burned to the ground.
***

Walking up to the scene of the fire everything became so real. The last place I spent time with my family had been reduced to a pile of ashes, and smoke was still fluttering in the air every time the wind would blow. As I walked through the ashes, I felt something unusual under my foot. I reached down and saw a singed journal sticking out of the debris. As I pick it up tears start falling from my eyes, and I fear that opening it will break me. I hold it close to me wishing
so badly I could smell Kyle on it instead of burnt ash. I placed it in my bag, putting it away, and said to myself “maybe I’ll save this for later.”
As I drove my red van down the highway, the smell of the journal just kept reminding me of Kyle. I just wanted one more memory of him, so I pulled over and started to read. All of a sudden the traffic around me no longer existed and all I could hear was Kyle’s voice. Tears dripped onto the page, but I kept reading. Why did I have cancer? Why did we have to move? Why did Kyle see what was happening and I couldn’t? This is my entire fault. As I kept reading, I noticed something missing from the journal. Just when I was about to find out about the history of the house and the people who lived in it, the pages were missing.

I felt a piece was missing from my life with those few pages gone, so before I even thought about what I was doing, I drove straight across the highway and started driving back the direction that I had come from. The trees on the highway were a blur, and I couldn’t wait to get the rest. The sun was starting to set, but I would still have some light to try find the missing the pages. As I pulled up to the house, something felt strange. I came back for the pages, but I found a whole new reality. The house was back.