14 April 2012
If anyone was to inquire about the blue house with the abandoned garden and dilapidated structure, most of its neighbours would turn their heads and claim ignorance about any deeds that went on in that house. And if that inquirer grew as interested in that house as one person did, I do not think that even then they would follow the course that Susan took. Most people would give it a second glance, hoping to be a witness to some strange event, and then would probably leave to carry on their day, and would never think of it again. But Susan, always straying from the norm instantly dug around in the trunk of her car, and pulled out a camera. It was a cheap disposable little thing, it's general purpose was to take some casual shots of something that had captured it's owner's eye until she could come back at a later date with her professional equipment.
Her first thought, once her eyes fell on the collapsed roof and the one side of the building sinking into the ground, was that it must it had a fantastic story to tell. As a photographer, storytelling was one of her main goals, so to see a story unfolding before her eyes, and everyone on the street reluctant to tell it, made her skin tingle with anticipation and her hands itch with excitement.
Which was why, when the little old lady from across the street came hobbling towards her, it confirms her suspicions about the mystery of this lonely house.
"Don't mind me," Susan said pleasantly. "I won't be here long."
"See that you're not." the woman replied haughtily, tapping a cane against the concrete as she stood in the centre of the road.
Susan smirked to herself, and was about to step into the crumbling house's garden, when she realised that the old woman was still there, and further more, did not seem inclined to leave at any point.
Susan turned her head wistfully, meeting clouded white eyes with the arrogance of youth, and declared, "I'm a photographer, I usually do model shoots, and I was on my way to one now, but this caught my eye."
The old woman watched her, not moving an inch, still standing in the centre of the road.
Susan waited, to see if she would get any reply, but when it became obvious that she would not, she prompted the woman by asking, "I don't suppose you know anything about this house, do you?"
The woman slowly looked up at the house, blinking slowly as she shuffled in one place, and shook her head.
"Nothing. There's not a single thing that is interesting about that house. It's just a house. Four walls and a fallen roof. You'd best get on your way."
These particular words perked up Susan's ears, and she asked in a softer tone,
"Nothing interesting about this house? For starters, it's clearly empty, but there's no for sale sign. It's sinking into the ground, but from what I can see, it shouldn't be as it's embedded in concrete, and the windows are not only shattered they're-"
"There nothing interesting about that house, and I suggest you move on before I call the cops!" the old woman interrupted, whacking her cane around, but still stepping no further.
"Mother!" a voice called from across the street.
Susan looked up to see a young woman standing on the pavement, watching the both of them warily.
"Mother, come inside, please." she pleaded, hands stretched out to the old woman, but she also did not move from her spot.
Susan noted the strange behaviour of both the mother and daughter, and with a keen eye, looked into the window of their front room, and saw four pairs of watching eyes, focused entirely on her. Susan felt a wave of fear wash over her, and looked around the street, realising with a sudden thud in the bottom of her stomach that practically every house on the street had at least 2 or 3 people on their doorsteps watching this scenario with a sort of nervous interest.
The daughter's attention switched to Susan, having realised that her mother was not moving until this stranger was gone, and asked, "Get out of here, you're not wanted here."
Susan stood with her mouth gaping open, shocked by the sudden harshness, but drew herself up and called back,
"I only wanted to take a picture, surely there's no harm in that, is there?"
But clearly there was, as the woman visibly paled, and stared down the street towards one of the nearby houses. Susan followed her gaze, and saw a woman in a dressing gown, clutching onto the arm of what appeared to be her husband, who was tightening his belt as he removed himself from his porch and strode purposely towards them.
He was a cop, Susan noticed, and one who was clearly going to take the side of his neighbours, though whether to keep the peace or to to remove the stubborn obstacle that Susan posed, she wasn't quite sure, though his next words confirmed the latter.
"If you're looking for town, it's further that way." he grumbled, pointing away from Susan, as he stopped a few yards away from her.
"I'm not, I just wanted to take a photo of this interesting looking house." Susan muttered, rolling her eyes. "I'm not planning to rob it, I'm a photographer, it's my job to capture beautiful things."
"Then you'll find plenty in that direction."
Susan looked around her, puzzled by their actions, which only increased her curiosity, and asked, "did something happen here for everyone to be so secretive like this?"
There was a hushed silence that swept over the street, and most of the neighbours had gone inside after Susan had asked this question, the daughter turned around and went back inside the house, drifting across the patchy lawn like a ghost, hardly moving, her knees shaking until she entered the house. The old woman trembled in her place and gave a sour look to the police officer, whose hand slowly hovered over his gun.
Susan raised her hands and said apologetically, "Hey, sorry. I'll go now, okay, I'm leaving."
The officer's eyes narrowed on her as she slowly approached her car, tossing the camera into the back seat as she slid into the driver's seat.
Both the officer, whose name tag read, "O'Reilly" and the old woman whose cane was still rapping on the concrete, watched her drive away, never moving from the places. She watched from her rear view mirror as they began speaking with each other, until she turned around a corner and parked, picking up her cell phone and began to dial the number of a friend who would hopefully answer the question she was about to ask.
iii • Opuss № I