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The Wicked House

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I am not surprised. Not at all. Moving from house to house has been my parents' passion since I was a little toddler. I guess, there is nothing else I can do to change it. We'll be moving until my parents are happy. I just didn't get why they had to move a lot. When I asked them, I always got the same reply; We feel we must. It didn't tell me anything, neither did it today.

They didn't have a job that made them move. They didn't even have a job outside the city. So I didn't quite understand why we moved. This is our 4th house we have moved to, by the way, if it's important for you to know. But, there was this weird feeling about it. This house was different. There was something more about this house than was seen at the moment.

I could just not put my finger on what it was. My parents didn't seem too bothered. Neither did my brothers. Weird. I couldn't be the only one that felt this uneasiness? Or am I? Ever since I was born, I always felt watched. By something or someone. I don't really know what it is.

"This house is wonderful!" my mother said to us.

I didn't know if I should have agreed with her, but the rest of my family seemed to do. I guess I had to do it as well. I didn't want to be the weird child in the family. I was picked on by my brothers and friends enough, I didn't need to be picked on more than I already was. I am getting pretty tired of it. I did all chores Mother ever told me to do; it was enough punishment.

As we went inside the house, it was different from the outside. I actually liked it. The house outside looked old, dirty and seemed to collapse any moment. But on the inside. My gosh, it was like I stepped into another world. From the dark, gloomy world outside.

To a colorful, cheery world on the inside. I saw a good future in this house. I never had one in the other houses, since I knew we would move a half year later. The furniture was still here. I guess the first owner didn't have any ideas of selling them. Must've been a rich fella. We always needed to sell our furniture when we moved, and buy new ones in the next house. But thanks to this house, we saved some extra money. Then maybe my bratty brother gets happy for once and will finally shut up for some months. I would really believe in God if that happened.

My mother and father went upstairs to look at our bedrooms. My brothers and I went outside again to look at the backyard. It was beautiful. A big pool, a BBQ stand, a hot tub (Now I really believe in God!), tree house and the list goes on and on. I could continue as my heart desires if I wanted to. And as I would guess, my brother went into the pool.

They quickly changed to their swimwear and jumped into the pool. All four at once. I am glad I didn't stand close to them, or else I would've looked like a wet dog. But as I looked at my brothers having their little fun time in the pool, I heard a click coming from behind me. I looked behind me. Nothing was there,

"Hey, Jenny! Hearing ghosts!?" my brothers yelled after them. I looked back at them with an annoyed face.

"No! I don't!" I yelled back a bit irritated. But I sighed and knew I should ignore my brothers. Just as Mother said, they were in the state of adulthood.

Heh, that's not enough to describe to these imbeciles. But once more, I heard this click noise again. Now it sounded louder. After the click noise, I decided to go to wherever the noise came from. Of course I was curious! I wanted to know if I was crazy or not. As I stood at the exact spot where I heard the click noise, I heard it once more. But further away. As I came to that spot, I noticed my Father in his room through the window.

I got refiled somewhat. He was at the computer. That could be the source of the clicking noise. I laughed at myself, thinking how silly I was. Maybe moving from house to house had taken the best of me. But I still had this feeling. The feeling. To go downstairs to the basement. Did we have a basement? I didn't know. Still, I felt I DID know. It's hard to explain it. But, I knew where I was going. I went into the garage and down the stairs.

Where the heck am I? I asked myself. The room was pitch black, but I finally noticed the little lamp in the middle of the room. I had my focus on it and walked towards it. As I turned on the light, I was startled of what I saw. Tombstones. A lot of them. As I walked towards the tombstones, I notice it was families. Toddlers, kids, teenagers, adults and elders. I shivered with fear. How did I know this was here? In fear, I ran back upstairs to my parents. I immediately told them what I saw. They just laughed and said I was tired, that I should go to sleep. It was late at night, so I agreed with them.

As I lay in my bed, I couldn't sleep. What were the tombstones there for? Was it the first owners? I had no idea. I began to get slowly more tired, and eventually fell asleep.

Days, weeks and months went on as normal and I was about to turn eighteen. I was excited and couldn't sleep that night. I was so nervous what was in store of me. But as I woke up, I heard the sound I always hated to hear.

Mother was crying. I wondered what was wrong, so I head downstairs to her. Father tried to comfort her, but was also crying. I went towards them and asked what was wrong. The answer would truly scar me forever.

"Your brothers drowned in the pool last night," he says. I couldn't hold back the tears. Neither could I cry. I was so shocked. My brothers. Dead? But that wasn't all. But when we came back, they were gone," Father said. Could someone have drowned them and sneaked away with their bodies? This is awful. Not to mention this was on my eighteenth birthday (which wasn't so important right now), but my brothers were gone for good. I got this feeling again.

That, someone was watching me. I felt I needed to go somewhere. I ran back to the garage, towards the lamp and lit it. In horror, it was as I suspected. And I just wanted to pinch myself, hit myself. I wanted to wake up. Four tombstones stood there. I broke down to my knees and began to cry. This can't be happening. It's just a dream. I showed my parents the tombstones. They were shocked. How could this happen? And how could the bodies have been moved down here?

My Mother and Father began to pack immediately after what had happened. The death of my brothers. The bodies moved down to the basement and the tombstones from nowhere with their name on. We would go insane if we stayed longer in this house. A sudden heat struck me. Also the smoke. I ran downstairs to see what was going on. My parents, in the middle of the sea of fire. Screaming in terror. I tried all in my power to stop the fire. It was hopeless.

Both went to ashes and tombstones were made. They moved down to the basement once more. I shivered. I didn't go down the basement this time. I tried to run outside to get the heck out of here. But the door was gone. There was no way out. I shivered and went down on my knees in fear. I didn't want to eat at all. I was left. At the end, I died of hunger. A tombstone was made of me too. But I didn't move down to the basement as well. Instead, before I did, a blue box popped up. The text read as follows:

You have no Sims left in the household. Quit this household and make a new family.

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