House

Lorraine and I decided to enter the abandoned house and property. It was easy to see  the house used to be so beautiful in its prime, now each room was filled with graffiti and obscene drawings.  Some of the hardwood flooring had caved in already, which made  me hesitant to go upstairs.  Each room contained its own fireplace, as well as shattered glass everywhere, that crunched under our feet, due to the extent of vandalism.  It was obvious looking around that this was the living quarters on the large property. We walked into the living room, besides the glass and graffiti it was strangely intact compared to the rest of the house.  Red walls and green carpeting dated the space, but it looked as if time had otherwise stood still.  When we walked back upstairs and into the kitchen, we both suddenly were dizzy and had to leave immediately.  I felt it was probably the mold in the carpeting. When I left I  felt profound sadness for this house, as all the detailed craftsmanship had gone to waste, and what once was a home obviously filled with pride of ownership was taken to the point of no return, to a place of hopelessness.  That night when I slept I had violent nightmares all night long, and could not help but wonder if our visit to that house had something to do with it.