A few days ago I posted a little back story on my matchstick house. I have been trying to flesh out the rest of the story. If you watch my youtube videos you may know the story doesn't stop there. There is a room on the top floor that I named the anne frank room. And in the room there is a moldy pillow and blanket in the corner of the room with a Jack Daniel's bottle laying between them. Leaving the thought that someone must have been staying in the house since the man's passing.
Being the man stayed in the hidden room I am brought to the conclusion that maybe he is a drifter. Someone looking for shelter and unknowing of the house's history.
The man enters town during a rather bad summer storm. With no money for a room he stumbles drunk through town. As he approaches the edge of town a crack of lightning fills the hot night's air. It illuminates what little of a house is visible through the overgrown trees and shrubs off in the distance. He figures that it is far enough back and covered enough that he could stay without anyone noticing that he is there.
He approaches the house and pears though the windows. He can't make out any signs of life. So he tries the front door. The knob no longer present, the door easily swung open. There was a sense of uneasiness and sadness in the air. It was hot and thick from the midsummer storm, but also it was something more. Maybe it was just the fact that he was walking around an abandoned house that did not belong to him.
He searches the house blindly in the dark, but can not find a light. So he lays down in a corner away from the door in case anyone saw him poking around outside. In the morning he gives the house a look over and finds a little door under the stairs that leads to a small room. A few books line a shelf, the seem to be children stories. He likes the room it's small and hidden away. The room feels different, lighter than the rest of the house. He builds a bed in the corner of the room out of a pillow and blanket he found downstairs.
He was used to being on the move. As a young boy he would see people and hear things. After he told his parents this they began beat him. They took him to a doctor who had diagnosed him with schizophrenia and started to use electroshock therapy on him. It didn't help though, he just learned not to pretend like he didn't see or hear the things he saw and heard. He soon ran away after the treatments started. Later in life he found that getting drunk helped him with the things that alienated him from everyone else. He rarely stayed in the same place for long. People don't normally want a drunk schizophrenic man staying in town or being around their children. He tries to hide it and act like nothing is there, but its hard. The last town he was in he broke down in the street. He had just left the liquor store. The people where all around him flickering, whispering. He dropped his bottle yelling to leave him alone and that they weren't real. He covered his ears and ran down the street still yelling for them to stop. People stared in horror while others pulled their children inside homes and shops to protect them from the site.
The drifter had been in the house a few days before he had started seeing things again. He had noticed a small amount of money downstairs in a jar. He took the money into town and bought a bottle of Jack Daniel's. Normally this is when he would skip town. But, he felt oddly safe in the house and he liked his makeshift bed. It was rare that he got to sleep in doors.
Over the next week he tries to stay out of the main part of the house. He only to go down to eat from what little canned food he found. His visions normally follow him around and whisper things he can't quite make out. But, this one is different he doesn't even really take note of the drifter being there. He just stands there, looking out a window.
Going into the second week of being in the house he grew curious as to what the man is looking at. He walks over to the window and peers out of it. The only thing he could see was a bunch of trees off in the distance. He had got a better look at the man standing at the window. His face was covered in dirt and a long scraggly beard as if he had never bathed or even shaved. Seeing someone with a beard wasn't commonplace. Most men picked up shaving daily after the war. The man look as if he fought the entire war by himself, barehanded. His eyes were empty, and his face wore a look of sorrow that was so overwhelming you could forget where you stood.
As the drifter began to walk away the bearded man spoke softly, "She should be home soon." The drifter had stopped dead on his heel. He could never understand the people he saw. He turned back around and just looked at the man. Trying to figure out if he was real or not. The man had never even turned from the window. His vacant eyes transfixed on something the drifter couldn't see. "My wife. She likes to go for walks by the pond. She should be home soon to fix supper." The drifter craned his neck to take a second look out the window unwilling to move closer.
After what seemed to be hours of just standing there staring he slowly backed up toward his room. He drank his entire bottle of booze trying to wash the night from his memories. He woke abruptly from a dead sleep as if something called to him. He headed downstairs for some food. Peeking first to see if the man was at his window. But the bearded man wasn't at his post yet. On his way to get some a can he spotted some letters on a small table over by the window. The letters were addressed to a william and they were all unopened. He opened and read a few. They all seem to be from his daughter. In one of the letters there was a newspaper clipping about a large ship sinking. The drifter put the letters back, and without eating, headed for the yard.
After some searching He came across what may have been a pond, but was now all dried up. Trees pressed upon it, threatening to take away any evidence that it had once been there. He thought it strange that his vision would know about this pond even though he himself had never seen it. He sat down against a tree to think over everything that has happened since he got to town. He wasn't sitting there long before something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. A fluttering of white moved in and out of the trees. He got up to see what it was. He moved into the tree line and could make out a woman in a plain white dress.
"Miss," he called out. She didn't seem to hear him or even notice that he was there. He followed her for a little while staying a ways away. She seemed to be walking in circles. He decided to move closer. He got up behind her and reached out to touch her shoulder. Before he could touch her she turned around. She seemed startled. "ma'am, are you looking for something?" The drifter had asked her. She relaxed a little but seemed a worried. "I'm a little lost. I was out on a walk by the pond near my house. I saw a pretty little doe a little ways into the wood. So I came into to get a better look at it. I remember feeling very sleepy all of a sudden so I sat down. I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up I couldn't find my way back to the pond. It's so strange. I didn't think I had walked that far in. I need to get home soon and cook dinner for my husband. He must be getting worried by now." The drifter just stood there. He wondered if this was the woman William had spoke about. He doesn't know what to do or say. He could never understand his visions before yesterday and everything william said was true. But the drifter couldn't have known about the pond or the woman so what was going on. "I think I can show you back to your house miss. Follow me."
The drifter went up to the front door and opened it to see if William was standing at his window. He looked back at the woman who was standing in the yard. She just stared at the house with a pondering look on her face. "It looks like my house but something is different. It's not the same." The drifter took her by the hand and told her it will be okay and took her inside. The drifter stood by the door and watched as she walked over to William and touched him on the shoulder. He turned and saw his wife, and tears run down his face as he embraced her. They both cried, happy to be together once more as they slowly faded away.
The drifter couldn't explain what had happened. He thought maybe his visions weren't visions, but something more.The house no longer felt that since of sadness it had when he had first arrived there. Even though he felt like he could go on living there for a while longer he felt it was time to go. So he just left. Not because he was being chased away by scared parents, or because he was running away from visions. But, because he felt like he may be needed elsewhere.
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