She wakes up, confused as she stares at the ceiling above her. The water spots and mold she’s never seen before. This isn’t her house and it doesn’t belong to Anson either. Slowly, she sits up on the hard bed and runs her fingers through her hair. She doesn’t recognize this place at all.
There’s a window across from her. It’s smashed and the curtains get tossed around in the wind blowing in. There are photos of an older woman sitting on top of a dresser next to the bed. Another photo of a teenage boy. He has dark hair, like the woman’s, and familiar brown eyes. She looks away from the old memories of a family she doesn’t know and glances toward the door. It’s wide open.
“Hello?” Sally calls, getting no answer.
Hesitantly, she stands, stretching her legs. She walks to the door. The floor creaks and moans under her feet, but she keeps moving. Out into a hallway in an old house. The walls are grey with squares of where picture frames used to hang. She turns to the left, there’s light coming from an open door this way. The sounds of birds float through the house and the slight breeze brushes against her skin. Goosebumps run up her arms as she strolls to the open door.
“Is anyone out there?” silence is still her only answer.
Her eyes pass over the rotten couch in the corner of the old family room. The coffee table is a pile of broken wood in the middle of the floor and the TV set is smashed to bits with glass scattered all over. Her heart starts to race and she moves faster toward the door.
The sun shines through the trees above as she steps foot on the porch. Playful shadows dance on the ground at the bottom of the stairs and a porch swing sways back and forth to her right. She’s in the middle of the woods. A place she thought was a complete rumor.
A creaking sound comes from behind her and she stands frozen in place.