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The house stood there, abandoned, haunted. The paint peeled off, one bit at a time, crying for recognition. Its aura wept with the weight of abandonment. The hallways, once filled with laughter and merriment, echoed emptiness and longing. It wasn't supposed to end like this, the roof groaned in response to the wind.
This was once a lively place, filled with people, love, pets. Then tragedy struck, faster than lightning. A catastrophe. Lives were lost. Land slides occured out of nowhere. Some were rescued in the nick of time, those that lived to tell a story, of the folks who lived on the edge of the town.
The area was declared a hazard to all life and sealed off to protect what remained. With time, mansions disintegrated, crumbled out of existence, apart from the single house. It stood as the last monument, a silent keeper of anguish that once came uninvited.
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