We finally make it to our Grandparents' house and pile out of the car. My grandma practically gives us a medical exam, just to make sure we're one hundred percent absolutely positively completely okay with the world. Trying to mask our exhausted irritation, my sister and I grab up our stuff and trek towards the living quarters of the house. That's when I have to face it--that narrow, windowless hall leading to the back bedroom. The back bedroom is where my Granddad's sister stayed while she was sick and dying. My grandparents thought she was possessed by a demon. I assume she died in the room where I would now be sleeping.
I walk non-chalantly down the hall, quietly checking for mice or goblins that might scurry under my feet. The door to the bedroom is shut as always. Only a thin film of cloudy light seeps from under the door. I know the curtains in the house are dark.
When I turn the handle, the door comes open with a little pop. Then, there's that one second of hesitation, that one second of wonder and fear, before I push open the door.
My eyes are drawn immediately to the bed, and subsequently, to the rotting body lying within it.
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