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Justin Murphy

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The Arrival
By Justin Murphy
Saturday, January 30, 2010

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Nick and Jake Reardon enter a haunted house

    Nick and Jake Reardon entered the abandoned house across town. Nick himself heard all kinds of rumors and urban legends about it ever since he was small. Fact or fiction, the house had not been lived in for decades and the electricity no longer worked. Nick stood with his little brother at the door. Something started to happen that he did not understand, and he guessed maybe Jake did not either.
    'What are you doing?'
    Jake was autistic, but Nick had noticed he had these abilities that recently just started shining through. He did not know where they came from or where those abilities would take them. All of a sudden, a light to Nick’s left started to flicker. He did not know why, unless Jake was making it happen. Or if the old rumors about ghosts in this house being true . Yet the next thing almost left him reeling.
    'Ta da!'
    He heard Jake say this, as all the lights came on in the house for the first time in years. Nick looked around to see all the old pictures of the deceased people who lived in this house. They were all oval shaped, almost like antique paintings. Then he looked up on the mantle piece above the fireplace with this huge portrait that hung there. It was some old man with gray hair and a suit. Must have been the old man who once owned the house.
    While he took Jake by the hand, and looked up at the spiral staircase, he just thought about how or why Jake turned these lights on. Whether he did it or the spirits of this house did it instead. Who knew? Maybe his little brother and his newfound abilities set the whole thing off. He was almost tempted to go up the staircase, but Nick knew his little brother did not like to take long trips, and he was not about to leave him there.
    Nick’s foot touched the bottom step while his arm touched the bannister at the end of the staircase. This chill came over him, like a strong wind. His hair even blew, the staircase even shook. There was something about this house, some people were right about it. A place that held many secrets, and no one knew what they were. Including Nick himself and his little brother Jake. He noticed Jake backed away once the wind got he got stronger. Nick looked to see how far backward he was going.
    Even though Nick was still at the edge of the staircase, he turned around and noticed Jake was gone. He went back into the living room, and his little brother was now at the fireplace. He noticed Jake held some kind of book. Nick took it and flipped through the pages, he saw nothing but paragraphs and pages of cursive handwriting. The pages were so dusty, they made him cough. It must have been some kind of diary written someone who once lived here.
    Yet the question was, who’s notebook was it? It was definitely old, so it belonged to a person who was long dead. Or at least it appeared feasible. Nick flipped the pages once more, not only were they full of dust, but the pages were also yellow and faded. Pages that may have contained secrets of the past no one knew about. In this notebook, there was the difference between reality and the fantasy everyone created about this house.
    There was no doubt this was someone’s diary or journal years ago. It was just a matter of finding out who it belonged. He opened the cover to the first page, and at the lower left hand corner there was the name Capt. Silas Barrett with the year dated 1938. Nick figured he must have been an old sea captain. Either someone who used to race yachts, or must have been a captain in the Navy.
    Nick had yet to read even one page of the notebook, but it was the feeling he got from holding the notebook. Maybe it would not turn out to be an accurate feeling. He did not know for sure. As he much as he wanted to read it, he had to keep an eye on Jake. Who was about to leave the room again, but Nick made sure to run and catch up with Jake so they would not get separated from each other.
    All of a sudden, he noticed this old jazz standard started to play, and he had no idea where it came from. He turned around and noticed it was on an old phonograph record. He did not know whether Jake made it happen with his abilities or whether it was supernatural force within the house. Now, this place started to become more than automatic lights, a chill from a staircase, or a notebook. Something had arrived.

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