When I get nervous, my gums itch and right now they itch like mad, as if there were very insects burrowing in between my teeth. Every hour since her disappearance has been as if someone keeps adding a weight above my shoulders, my entire body in pain, aching for her. Unwanted visions of her being in pain, fear, death invade my mind at all hours, fortifying my resolve to get her back, to take her back to a life full of light instead one of darkness. A world she knows all too well. I vowed at our wedding to protect her always, yet it is my own fault that she has disappeared, due to my insistence on moving to this house, the dream house we´ve waiting for our whole lives. The baby blue exterior trimmed with red, the spacious rooms filled with sunlight, the lovely detailing on the banister of the staircase, the mahogany wood floors were such perfect details for what we presumed to become our perfect home. 

The perfect home strengthened our love for each other for it provided a sense of stability for the two of us, something that dare not frequent our lives too often. After the wedding we left immediately for our new home, a place so lovely, we deemed it to be more than worthy of being our honeymoon destination. A towering baby blue Victorian  house with endless windows to allow sunlight to land upon every surface of the rooms, with trees towering over the house, secluding the lovely area from the rest of the world. I walked through the front door carrying my beloved, her hands wrapped around my neck, her silky dress intertwined between my hands, her eyes shining with tears that has not stopped falling since saying ‘I do,’, nose nuzzled into my neck. Never have I ever had a moment so surreal, for the bliss I felt was in this moment was beyond anything.  Once we began to transition into the routine our new lives bound together as husband and wife, the house made its presence known. For at times my poor dear would come to me terrified insisting that there was a shadow that followed us, swearing up and down on her mother. That the house would whisper to her, revealing snippets of the past, she would then go up to the attic and pour over the forgotten belongings of families who have lived there, attempting to see if anything the house told her was true. At times either of them or even both would awake trembling from fear or even screaming because of the terror that would be instilled in their dreams.

On a moonless, cloudy night with the crickets chirping away, my beloved and I laid down for bed and began to talk about everything and anything, the type of conversation you could be apart of for decades and not be bored. In the night right before drifting off to sleep we came to the conclusion that we had to leave, any other house would suffice as long as it did not also come with its own baggage of monsters and fear; her hand intertwined with mine, the scent of strawberry shampoo tickling my nose, and her body cuddled up right next to mine allowed me to fall asleep due to the comfort.

I awoke alone. Her rings, and earrings were still on the nightstand, no note was left, her phone still on the dresser from last night. I began to walk from room to room, trying to see if maybe she was playing a cruel joke, a joke where she would leave me to believe I was left without her, without her light, without her smile. My anxiety began to skyrocket and I soon began to scream her name running from room to room for her to ¨Please, please just answer me my love!¨, and that is when I heard a series of thumps, as if there were something in the walls frantically wanting to get out. I then realized what was the cause of her disappearance. The house took her, stole her from me in the middle of the night, and has left her trapped within. Rage, and grief immediately take ahold of me. “I WILL GET HER BACK, EVEN IF I HAVE TO TEAR YOU DOWN PIECE BY PIECE!” I vowed to the house.

I have not slept a wink since, incapabable of resting my eyes for even a moment, for images of her being chased by the shadow she so feared, danced across the backs of my eyelids: cannot eat because my stomach is in knots. I could not begin to comprehend how simply several weeks ago we believed we were going to raise our children in that damnable house.  

As I walked through the house, I noted how a film of darkness seems to have covered every inch, the hallways a little longer than they once appeared, the polished wood floors now seemed as if they were rotting by the minute, the shadows that danced across the walls, the reverberating of footsteps and whispers drifting through the house, the painting’s eyes following my movement, staring and observing me. I felt as if the house was taunting me, attempting to make my fear so great that I would run out and never come back. I so wanted to, every nerve in my body begging me to leave this instant. But, I knew despite the fear despite any risk, I was going to free my beloved.

Grabbing my sledgehammer from the tool shed,  I began to make my way in the house and began to smash it against the walls, using every bit of my anger to fuel my strength, until the walls were nothing more than a pile of debris strewn across the room. The wailing soon began, the house crying out in pain to in response to what I have done. Soon, my laughter began to mix in with the wailing of the house, joy going through my body because I managed to hurt the being. The joy became short-lived as mice began to storm down the stairs, scurry down the walls, and began to fill into the living-room. Dozens of mice began to climb up my body, I began slinging the sledgehammer at anything I could make contact with, tears began to pour down my face at the sheer desperation I felt to get rid of the dozens of feet I could feel running across every inch of me. 

I awoke outside under the cover of darkness, confused as to how I came to be here. I look over myself and see that most of my skin has been clawed, my shirt ripped, my pants soaked in urine. I hear my beloved calling my name, warning me of the shadows of the house, that come and go creating darkness, I hear her say to leave and never return for she doesn’t know how much time she has, and finally one last “I love you...”, the fear that I felt quickly dissipates into grief. For it seemed to me like she does not think she will leave the confines of this godforsaken house again. I charge towards the house intent on destroying anything and everything. I grabbed my sledge hammer began to smash the sledgehammer, demolishing the walls, the doors, the windows, the very darkness within. Shadows started to leave the house which inspired some hope in me, that I may see my beloved again. As the house creaks and groans I see a glimpse of silky hair out the front bay window, my heart leaps. “My wife!” I thought. Pieces of the ceiling begins to topple to the ground, adding to the debri. The house started to quake, unsure if it was the house’s way of admitting defeat. The last thought that ran through my mind before the house crumbled on top of me was the day I married my beloved.