Psychotic Gallery

As I placed one foot in front of the other, I couldn't help but entertain the chill of the night air. Unfortunately just hours before, I received a reminder that life could be colder. Why else would I have been out walking past my bedtime with bad intentions. Allowing my anger to navigate me to my destination. What had pushed me to that point isn't for you to know. Only I knew what I wanted and Lucifer knew just how to give it me.

 

The journey continued one block after another. I noticed a tremendous decrease in the temperature as I approached an abandoned structure that had the potential of once being a happy home. The house was hunched over as if it had been beaten into submission. Instantly, I came to the conclusion that he hadn't lured me there. So who did? I played tug of war with my intuition momentarily before pride insisted I walk in. I figured maybe that house possessed something my fucked up place of residency didn't. I'm one that believes every evil presentation must contain some good.

 

I started in the kitchen. There on the table laid a rusted pistol and a shot glass. I didn't want to jump to any conclusions as to why blood was splattered all over the tablecloth , but surely that pistol played a part in it. There was nothing more to see so I vacated the kitchen and proceeded down the hallway. As I walked, I could hear what seemed to be the sound of weeping. The crying out didn't last too long. Joyous laughter would step in as a new replacement. Either I was losing my mind, or gaining some sense of peace from this twisted place. Each door I passed had been padlocked except the doorless doorway that was positioned just ahead.

 

The swallowing darkness of the doorless doorway welcomed me in with open arms. So I accepted the invitation and gracefully lunged forward into her bosom. Had I reached my fate? For the first time that night I got on my knees and prayed for my soul's sake. My prayer went unfinished...The sudden lighting of the room distracted me. On the bedroom floor there it was...A cracked picture frame holding a family portrait; a man, woman and two girls. Everyone looked so happy. Almost everyone. The man had a look of misery on his face. I'm sure he was bothered by something or someone. Sadly from the smiles on everyone else's faces, they didn't have a clue. Maybe he owed money to some loan shark and came to terms that he couldn't pay him back with the lent in his pocket.

 

Or he could have been feening for his next fix. Either way it goes he was the head of this household, then he blew it off at the kitchen table. That man threw back shot after shot of whatever he was drinking until it had convinced him to do so. As for the rest of the family, he probably killed them too. Those doors were padlocked for a reason. Subconsciously, I had turned that place into a museum. An exhibit displaying a true broken home. Though I made it out alive, I will never be the same again. My sanity has left me to join the spirits of that family. Now I know who led me there. Why he did so, I'll have to grab a pistol and shot glass to find out.