don’t leave us alone.

The porch floor creaks and moans. Old, damp wood, rotting from the inside out.

My mouth is dry, but I know this is it. This is the house.

I force saliva to coat my cracked lips.

The door budges without any effort behind it. One small nudge with both hands.

I step in, leaving the door precariously open.

A barely visible hallway spreads in front of me through the darkness.

My eyes adjust to the complete lack of light as I step deeper into the house, the wooden floorboards suddenly silent in comparison to the porch. The safe porch.

The air is thick. My body starts shaking, and once again I know.

This is it. This is the house.

The shaking gets worse as I go up the stairs. A long staircase, the wallpaper on the surrounding walls yellowing and peeling. The front door slams suddenly. There is no wind. I'm not welcome, and they know it. I know it.

My whole body becomes heavy the further up the stairs I go. Another hallway stands before me at the top. Several rooms with completely closed doors. One of them is open--

no.

That is the trap. Do not step into the open door. Go for the sturdiest one, the one that is completely shut. But it's so tough, because that one completely open door shows me a room full of light. Of warmth. I can see a bonfire crackling away, the scent of melting chocolate, marshmallows, cold pines. Christmas. Warmth. Caramel.

Why can't I just forget all this silliness and go through that door?

Wouldn't it be easier? It's a nice place to rest. To finally let go--

"Stop it."

a screaming voice breathes into my ear. I jump, a yelp held back.

The rest can't know I am there.

The shock from the voice is enough to make me realize I was one step away from going into the room. On second glance, the room is not warm. It is not bright. It is darker than the rest of the house. Stains around its walls, its floors. I do not need a light to know their color, their origin story. A rank, putrid scent.

Stop it. Goddamn it. Stop it.

Forcefully, I walk away from the room. Towards the one door that is completely closed off to the rest of the world.

My hands are burning cold. This is it. This is the door. I take a deep breath. I knock.

No one answers.

But the door opens, a draft of wind hitting my face.

Before I know it, a small frozen hand slides into my own. The voice is back.

"Please. Don't leave us."