The Guest House.

I remember it so vividly. It was All Hallows Eve - or Halloween, if you will - and my

friends and I decided to spend the night hanging out around a fire telling old folk tales and ghost

stories. I was eager to tell them the story of old Mildred White. I even dared them to spend the

night - just one night - in her now abandoned house.

The year was 1850, and Miss Mildred White was one of the most envied women in town.

She owned the town’s most beautiful home, and she knew it. Her home was a subtle shade of

yellow with bright white shutters, and her gardens, which surrounded her home, were a rainbow

of colors. Miss Mildred never bothered with taking a husband; instead, she sent her days tending

to her gardens and her nights tending to her guests. You see, Miss Mildred was born into a

family of wealth; however, since she had not married, and did not take good care of her

inheritance, she had to find a respectable way to support herself. This is when the idea of

opening her beautiful home up to travelers in need of a place to stay for a night or two came

about.

Mildred lived on Melody Lane right before the entrance of her little town. She had a long

driveway leading to her house and at the end of it was her welcome sign that said “Flower Beds

Inn''. As soon as guests would crack the seal of the heavy timber door, Mildred would welcome

them with a sweet aroma coming from the savory smell of her powdered cinnamon English

muffins. Mildred would immediately greet her guests with a warm “Hello” & offer them some of

her baked goods. Before settling her company into their rooms, Mildred would hold a brief

meeting in the downstairs parlor to explain the rules and routines of her home. Miss. Mildred
gave them 3 simple instructions which were to be on time to breakfast, lunch, and dinner, do not

snoop around, and do not come out of their rooms after 10pm.

The inside of her house was as astonishing as the outside. She kept everything neat and

tidy leaving nothing out of place. Her house had about 5 rooms including hers. The guests' rooms

were upstairs along the sides of a long, dark hallway. Each room resembled the other consisting

of a full size bed sitting in the middle of the room, a small bath area, and a vanity with freshly

picked flowers in a tall vase sitting upon it. Guests would freshen up before heading back down

stairs to enjoy a home cooked meal by Miss. Mildred White. From setting their plates to cleaning

up behind them, Mildred took very good care of each guest up until their last day. After dinner,

the guest would thank Miss. Mildred for all the kindness and care she has overwhelmed them

with. Then they are off to bed with a full belly and ready for a good night's sleep, or so they

thought.

Mildred White wasn't what she put off to be. Underneath her uncanny smile held

wretched truth. Deep down Miss. White was lonely. No family, no kids, no spouse. Her only

close social interaction with people were her guests, this is why Mildred was so dedicated to

making sure everything was perfect. After 10pm when guests were in bed, Mildred would roam

the halls of her home impatiently waiting for sunlight to rise, bringing her and her company

another day. The guests would often hear Mildred stalking the halls by the eerie sounds of the

creaking floors. They could sense her presence stopping at their bedroom doors and could hear

her heavy panting as if she were bent down looking through the keyhole. The longer travelers

would stay, the more skeptical they grew of Miss. White.

On the guests last full day, they could tell something was off about Mildred. Her whole

mood changed, her face held a blank state, and her cooking turned unappetizing. After finishing
up what they could eat of dinner, Mildred insisted her guests drink this herbal tea before heading

to bed. She claimed it would help ease them to sleep. With no questions asked, the guests turned

up their mugs drinking every drop. On their way up to their rooms, they found themselves locked

in an instant haze. Leaning on the stair rail for support, stumbling into the room, & collapsing on

the bed trapped with this forgein feeling. Seconds later, Mildred follows behind entering the

room wide eyed with an unholy expression on her face smiling from ear to ear. She would tie the

unconscious bodys’ feet together making it easier for her to drag them down into her basement

where then she would shackle their hands to the wall making them stay with her and oftenly

tormenting them in hideous ways. Mildred would still tend to her hostages like she regularly

would her guests, but never let them leave the basement.

One particular guest was Arthur Chester. Arthur was a novelist who loved using his

imagination and experiences to create meaningful stories hoping to bring joy into others lives.

He was a kind yet curious man who apparently never heard the phrase “curiosity killed the cat”.

Arthur disobeyed one of Miss. Whites rules by leaving his room after 10pm. Exiting the room

with no criminal thought in mind, Arthur began slowly making his way down the hallway

examining the framed pictures upon the walls between rooms. Approaching the stairs, he hears

Miss. Mildred humming a tune but isn’t sure where it’s coming from. Quietly making his way

down the stairs, Arthur comes upon a room with pink walls and boxes filled with baby items

such as clothes and toys. Confused and curious Arthur continued digging. He wanted to know

more about Mildred White and what all this stuff meant to her. Catching the corner of his eye

was an antique dresser box that was pushed almost underneath the bed. Opening the intriguing

box, Arthur found items that probably held some sort of sentimental value to Miss. Mildred. The

box included old photographs of Mildred with a baby & also love letters from a departed partner
of Mildreds. Arthur proceeded on with his mission and found out that Mildred was once in love

with a man her family forbade her to be with named Charles. Disregarding what her family said,

Mildred continued to see Charles and they ended up having a child together. With her family still

being in denial of their relationship, this caused Charles to run away taking their child along with

him. This did not make Mildred happy whatsoever. That is when she decided to turn her back to

her family and go her own way with life. Still trying to remain silent, Arthur returned the items

to the box, closed it, and headed back upstairs. He entered his room and paused for a minute. He

noticed a change in the atmosphere, it was colder than before. Arthur takes 2 steps deeper into

the room and the door slams shut. Standing there with a ghostly pale complexion was Mildred

White. Arthur couldn't tell if she was frightened or angry with him by her emotionless stare she

gave off. With Arthur becoming more and more anxious as she levitates towards him, he blurts

out, “I'm sorry for leaving my room, Mrs White. I just wanted a glass of wa-” WHAM. Arthur

was never seen or heard from again.

There was a silent deafness. Everyone gazed at each other in disbelief contemplating if

the story was fact or fiction. The loudness of the silence clogged my ears leaving only the

crackling sounds of the bonfire before us. “Okay, okay you totally made that up” exclaimed my

friend James. Beth pulled down her sweater from her face, cleared her throat and nervously

spoke up, “Um.. I think it’s best if I go home now.” As she gets up to walk away, I grab her wrist

and beg her to stay. “C'mon Beth, It’s All Hallows Eve. We're too big to be trick-or-treating, so

we have to have some sort of fun”, I exclaimed. Beth agreed to stay only if she got to carry a

flashlight. Smirkingly looking at her, I reached into my bag and pulled out 4 tiny flashlights. I

replied, “No worries, I came prepared.”

 As we made our journey to the house, Beth still trembled with fear. James tried to look

tough but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. But as for me, well my curiosity excited me.

The closer we became to Mildreds abandoned house, the cooler the atmosphere became. James

and Beth shivered as each breath was visible in the night air. As we got closer I felt an

electrifying energy running through my veins. Finally, we arrived! As my hand grabbed the huge

door knob on the tall wooden door I glanced at James and Beth. They both gulp looking as stiff

as stone. As soon as I stepped foot into the rotted, rundown house a heavy feeling consumed me.

I could hear shallow whispers in the air feeding my mind with horrid thoughts. Was it the voice

of old lady White? Could her spirit still linger about? I suddenly feel as if I'm aware of my

surroundings taking pride in my steps leading Beth and James through the house.

Suddenly, I feel the urge to stop. Looking to my right there was the infamous pink room.

Although the house was now black and dirty, the boxes and all belongings of Miss. White still

remained. I searched for the dresser box, finding it sitting perfectly on top of a small table within

the room. When I opened the box, it released a shivering breeze through my body, down my

spine. Expecting to see everything in the box that was spoken of in the story, there was only a

singular picture. A picture of Mildred and a very familiar faced child. I examined this picture

particularly well, turning it over to find the words “Finish what I started Ali - Great Grandma

Mildred.”

WC 1693