*A short story*

He tried to warn her…

It was a brisk autumn morning and the wind stirred up the leaves as they continued to fall from the old oak tree in front of the house piling up against the for sale sign. It had been a few years since the house had gone up for sale again but it was not much to look at. The grass had overgrown, the shutters were starting to fall off and the porch looked like it had seen better days. It was mid morning when the crunch of gravel beneath tires could be heard before a moving truck came to a sudden halt in the driveway. The driver's side door flies open and out steps Janelle, a 34 yr old accountant from a big city now looking to start her life anew in a much quieter, more relaxing setting. Blonde hair tied in a messy bun, wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, a feeling of excitement bubbled up inside of her as she carefully made her way up the front steps of the porch and slid the key into the lock. For a split second she had the feeling that she was being watched and turned her gaze towards the house next door. The curtain in the window moved slightly as a shadow disappeared but then there was nothing. She shrugged her shoulders thinking it was just her imagination and she pushed open the front door to her new life and stepped inside.

The interior of the house smelled like dust, lemon wax and trapped time. She closed the door behind her to shut out the autumn wind and let out a sigh of relief determined that she was going to turn this home into her peaceful sanctuary. For the next few hours, chaos took over. Movers helped her unpack her city life from the couch she could not live without to her box of books along with her office furniture. When they were finished she offered them a generous cash tip for their hard work and listened as they returned to the truck and pulled out of the driveway. Being a creature of habit she decided to first organize her office. Heading back up the stairs in the main foyer she walked down the hallway towards the room pausing as she glanced up to see the rope that was attached to the pull down stairs that led up to the attic.

“That would be the perfect space for storage” she muttered to herself as she carefully climbed the creaking old steps, her grip tightening. The last thing she needed was a trip to the hospital because she had gotten careless. The attic was coated in dust and cobwebs, boxes scattered about like it had been forgotten by time.  Near the center of the space there was a table with a thick cloth draped over it, which seemed a little out of place and she could see a large shape was hidden beneath it. Curiosity got the better of her and she tugged at it till it fell away and hit the floor with a thud stirring up a cloud of dust. She gasped as she stood back.

It was a doll house but not just any kind. It was an exact replica of the house she had bought right down to the shutters on the windows, everything in explicit detail. When she takes a look at the open back of the house, her breath catches in her throat. The furniture is identical to hers…the same couch, the desk in her office with all her books, in the kitchen there is a mug with a kitten on it, the very same mug she had set down on the counter before she headed up stairs. She laughs nervously thinking it must be just a coincidence but she bought that mug at a flea market years ago so how could anyone have known. She looks towards the bedroom of the dollhouse and lets out a sharp gasp. In the closet hung her clothes and on the bed was a replica of a quilt her grandmother had made for her yet she had not even unboxed those items yet. A flicker of movement casts a shadow across the attic floor from the window that faces the neighbors house. Janelle slowly creeps to the window and looks out catching a glimpse of some one or something peering through the slit of a curtain at her. She stumbles back, gripping the edge of the table as she feels like she is losing her mind. “This can’t be real” the words barely escape her throat as her gaze returns to the dollhouse noticing a figure in the attic for the first time. With a trembling hand she reaches out and grasps onto it, pulling it out to hold it into the light. She almost lets it slip from her fingers as she stares down at a miniature figure of herself.

She carefully places it back in the attic, her eyes now darting around as if the floor beneath her is shifting. She takes another step back, the heel of her shoe catching on a floorboard. Reaching down, she notices that it is loose so she pulls at it till it breaks free. Beneath the wood there is a small wooden box and she is afraid of what she might find if she opens it. Biting down on her bottom lip, she carefully opens the lid, her eyes widening in horror. Inside resting against velvet cloth were 5 figures. There was an old man with a cane, a woman and man with a child and a younger man.

He had warned her…the real estate agent who sold her the house. He told her something was not quite right with the house, about how the previous owners had disappeared but she thought at the time he was trying to avoid selling it to her. She remembered that for a brief second, his eyes flickered and she sensed fear. She set the box down afraid of what it might represent. Her morbid curiosity pulled her to the house once more as she reached into the kitchen to examine the mug that looked like hers only to feel the warmth of it as if it had just been used. This could not be happening to her, it made no sense. She could feel eyes upon her and she crept to the window and stood to the side, barely allowing herself to be seen as she stared out the edge of it. The curtain in the neighbors window was pulled back and the window was now open. A shadow moved across in front of it then disappeared before she could hear the sound of their front door opening then closing with a slam. She peers down towards the front of the yard only to catch a glimpse of something moving slowly and steadily towards the front of her house. She was trapped in the attic with no escape. She could feel the walls closing in around her as the shadows emerged slowly blocking the sunlight from penetrating the darkness. She wanted to run but there was no place for her to go. There was nothing for her to look at but a dark shadow which seemed to loom over her and her scream was caught in her throat. A hand reached out towards her making her the silent final addition to his collection at least for now.

A few weeks later the real estate agent is standing inside of the house with a young couple. He nervously takes them room by room, including the attic. The dollhouse is covered with the cloth once more and he distracts them long enough to head back down to the kitchen. “The previous owner decided to move away” he said abruptly when they asked about her. “She did leave a few things behind” gesturing to all of the items scattered about as if frozen in time. They did not sense the terror in his voice as he spoke, their excitement of starting their lives masking any fear he might have displayed. Beneath the loose floorboard of the attic the velvet lined box now remained, a sixth figure added to it, a younger woman with her grandmother's quilt wrapped around her shoulders, her face a mask of horror. The real estate agent rushed the couple out the front door, wanting to leave before the sun left for the evening, his gaze quickly darting to the house next door as the curtain slowly moved just enough to show a figure standing behind it. The collector remained watching and waiting for its collection to grow once more.