Group K Blog Four

Something about that house has always had a magical feel. I’m not quite sure what it was but it just did. Spending my child-hood there was a special time. I spent many days exploring the house inside and out. The third floor was my grandmas and I was told to never go up there. I always figured she needed rest and I would just be a bother. One day I pretended to be sick so I could get out of going to church. When everyone left I walked up the third flight of stairs. This had always been off limits and it felt some what liberating to be walking up these stairs. This of course was the only area of the house I had never explored. It actually seemed pretty normal. Grandma keeps a pretty tidy living area I thought to myself. After looking into all the other rooms I came upon a room with the window left open. “I better close this” I thought. As I walked in things felt different in this room. First off all the walls were a horrendous color and the bird design over the paint was strange looking. As I walked up to shut the window a bird matching the color and size of those on the wall flew out before I shut it. What was that saying Grandma always spoke of? “I’ll be with you wherever you go, through the eyes of a fly on the wall”? Hmm, weird I thought. I walked downstairs and went back to bed. I awoke just in time for church.

Group K Blog Three

I had always loved spending my evening watching the sailboats return to harbor. Something about seeing them all lined up reminded me of soldiers returning home from battle. In this case the battle was the lake and the reward was a peaceful harbor to return to. Something about watching the ships return in the evening illuminated by the rising moon was purely magical. Some nights before going to watch I’d stop at a local candy shop by the port and buy a chocolate covered pretzel. I’m not too sure how I became so fond of chocolate covered pretzels but at one point in my life I just did. Every once in awhile I’d get a vanilla milk shake with it. Heading to the harbor I’d sit on top of a pick-nick table and watch. The first in were always the fishermen. You could tell they had the hardest day because they’re ships had already been prepared to dock. They wanted off the ship as soon as possible. Next came the sight-seers and tourists. Their boats were a little less organized. Always coming in last were the partiers. Their boats were the last thing from organized. Wine bottles fell off the side, their laughter and voices could be heard when they crossed under the railroad bridge. One night I remember very well occurred a few weeks ago. As ships passed by one came closer to shore and then just sat there. An hour past and it was still there. I hadn’t seen an anchor drop or even a crew member on deck. A man placed his hand on my shoulder and I nearly fell into the water I was so startled. He dressed like a captain and resembled one in every possible way. He pointed out the ship and then he said it. “I should probably get back to my ship now.” He started walking towards the fence and then disappeared. After a moment the ship began to move. It disappeared into the dark along with the others.

Group K Blog Two

That summer was one of the best ones I ever had. I spent a majority of the time at my grandparents place on Lake Michigan. I woke around 5AM. My grandfather was already up preparing for our fishing trip. We did this most mornings. I would always pack some food and he would pack the gear. We were out in the boat before sunrise. It was the perfect time to go fishing. Watching the sunrise over the lake was also a beautiful sight to see every morning. It was times like these I’ll remember the rest of my life. We’d return to the cottage around nine and grandma would have pancakes ready. After that I’d take a little nap. When I woke up grandma was already working on lunch and most days grandpa was outside. He was always working. He was either mowing the lawn, gardening, or working on the boat. I went outside and helped him for a bit and then played some catch. We’d play all the way up until grandma rang the bell for lunch. After, I’d help grandma clean the kitchen. I swam in the lake and took the boat out a little by myself. Grandpa would never let me get out of sight. I suppose it was a good idea because the lake is so huge I’d be in real trouble if I got lost or if the boat broke down. Sometimes Grandpa would take me water skiing. This was one of my favorite things to do. Most nights we had dinner, others we made a fire in the evening and cooked some food over that. I liked when we had fires. Sitting and listening to Grandpa’s stories from when he was in the war really inspired me. I normally fell asleep on the couch in their cottage after watching some television. The next morning I woke around five and started the process over. It never became boring.

Group K Blog One

 


As I walked up the stairs to my front porch that night I knew something wasn’t right. It couldn’t of been that mustard sandwich I ate for lunch, I thought. No, it had to be something else. Something was up. I could smell the uneasiness in the air when I walked through my front door. The house seemed different. It was not the fact that my wife had moved out, or the fact she had taken the pets with her. It was a new kind of different, the kind that you feel in your stomach. Putting aside my notions I continued into the kitchen where I placed my briefcase on a chair. I walked over to my freezer and swung open the door, searching for dinner. I found my favorite TV Dinner; Mac And Cheese with some broccoli and turkey. Yes, it’s okay to say things have been rough without Sharon in my life. I popped the cold meal I’d become accepting of into the microwave. As I walked upstairs the strange feeling in my stomach began to grow. So much to the point where I felt unsafe. I imagined myself to be in a horror film. Eyes peering at me from holes carved through the ceiling tiles. Being the man I am I shrugged off the feeling in my gut and continued into my room. I woke up ten minutes later. Puzzled, I looked around. What had happened? I remember tripping and falling into a cabinet but what had tripped me? I was sure I didn’t see anything laying on the ground. Stunned, I stood up and flicked the light switch on. That’s when I saw it. It was a mysterious lump in my carpet. I nearly shrieked but I knew that would only frighten what may ever be in the lump. I grabbed the closest object to me, it was my grandfather’s chair which was handed down to my father and now myself. I raised it over my head and took a swing hitting the lump object. I nearly knocked the lamp of the table which the chair used to rest next to. The lump flattened without much force. I broke a leg off the chair which latter I payed to have fixed. What was under that lump will forever haunt me. Or maybe, I would forever haunt it. If it even exists.