I stared out my window at the house. Since before I could remember, the house has always been abandoned and boarded up. I always wanted to explore it, to see if the story behind the house was told inside of it. Practically every day I begged my friends to explore it with me, but they always said no. They always said that I had death wish wanting to go inside that house. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, tapping my pen on the desk. I hadn’t wanted to go in alone, but for some odd reason I had the strongest, weirdest feeling that I needed to go inside that house.

Before I let myself think twice about it, I grabbed my jacket and walked outside. The bite of the cold air made me shiver, but I ignored it as I walked to the end of the street. As soon as I stepped onto the rotted front porch of the house another shiver rolled down my spine, but this time it wasn’t from the old. There was a odd sort of …aura coming from it. The air felt thicker, sounds seemed quieter, and my expectations of the house smelling like rot and mildew were proved wrong. It sort of smelled like musk, but not the bad kind of musk. It was a comforting scent. I took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. My hand didn’t touch it, but the door swung open, making me flinch. 

Something touched the back of my neck and I whirled around expecting it to be one of my friends, but nothing was there. I steadied my breathing was was about to step into the house, but something had grabbed the back of my jacket and pulled me in, the door slamming shut as soon as I passed through the threshold. 

“No!” I half whispered, half screamed. I scrambled back to the door but when I tried to open it, it didn’t budge. “No no no no no no no no no.” I started clawing at it, breaking my nails and leaving marks in the soft wood. The thing took hold of my jacket again and dragged me backwards. I fell onto my back and I started kicking and screaming as I was dragged. My hair and clothes were getting caught on exposed nails ripping it. My shin hit the corner of something, making me cry out in pain. 

“Stop,” I begged, tears running down my face. “Please, let go of me.” All of a sudden, everything stopped. The dragging the creaking of the floorboards, everything. That scent filled my nose again as I stood up. The strong urge to go up the staircase filled me. I my body began to move towards it before I told it to. I froze at the first step. I should’ve left. I should’ve turned back and gone home and forgotten about it. But that smell. My body craved the comfort that it felt in the scent. I lifted my leg up and onto the first step before I pasused. I thought for a moment. Did I really want to go up there? The first time I followed that comfort and feeling or familiarity it didn’t go well. 

I shook my head. I was already there. I was there and had made it through the door relatively unharmed, aside from the thing dragging me. I walked up the rest of the stairs, but my brain was screaming at me to stop. It was telling me to turn back, but another calmer, soothing voice was telling me to go up the stairs. Telling me to go into the room on the right. It was telling me to ignore the creaking of the floor boards and the heavy breathing coming from behind me. I walked into the room. The smell was strongest there. The voice of reason that was telling me to run faded out completely. The calm voice told me to open the window. I slid it open.

And then I threw myself out of it.

The last thing I remembered was the crushing impact on my head as I hit the ground.