sjsprWriting

Whispers, no, not whispers but more like soft screams were heard in an empty house. As the seconds and minutes clocked by, the whispers would increase. Minute by minute more whispers would be heard; each whisper louder than the one before. Then, right on the hour, the whispers would die all at once. Yet the house had a sound of its own, like all old houses do. The floors creaked and the striking sound of the grandfather clock resonated all around the desolate mansion. The three-story house was built in the 50s by young honeymooners who were passing by and saw the perfect land to create their perfect ever after. But now the house was only a void of sounds and shadows. Its first owners abandoned it after they realized they didn't love each other more as they loved the idea of being in love. Young love turned into sweet doom.

To be continued….