Broken - Desiree Lepore-Mendez and Anh Thu Bui

It was the peak of the night. The glowing full moon stood high over the tip of the brown

hill, illuminating an empty mansion surrounded by graves of the dead. Passing the lifeless trees

aligned on the disurbed gravel, I cautiously amble towards the glowing vantablack building- only

to notice its humongous size as I got closer. An eerie silence suddenly overwhelmed every noise

around me, leaving no sounds to be heard– no sounds of the crows, no sounds of the winds, and

no sounds of my footsteps. Before I could even reach for the handle, the chipped wooden door

slowly creaked open. The gloomy grey exterior somberly advised not to enter, yet out of

curiosity, I took a step in. The mansion held its ceilings high, and loomed over me like the roofs

at the Basilica. Around me long silvery cobwebs hung at every single corner. The small tickle of

dust hung around the air, I listened for a sound and the house replied with the echo of silence. I

heard a small creak and swiftly turned as the door slammed shut, I mean it was windy outside

anyways. The walls were decorated with torn wallpaper drooping down heavily, the sad

lavenders patterned evenly all throughout. As I studied the walls I felt a presence looming over

me; I turned sharply and saw no one; I looked up and saw a grand chandelier, beautifully placed

at the center of the high ceiling, heavy and unstable she seemed to await her victim to fall upon.

My stomach roared, I was hungry and decided to check for a kitchen maybe something was left

from the previous owners. I began to climb the old wooden stairs, while I climbed I tripped as I

almost fell through one of the large gaping holes. I looked through and all I could see was

darkness. I finally made it to the second floor. I found a kitchen, as it seemed to be placed in a

room, maybe there was another somewhere on the first floor. I looked around the room. It

seemed to be of a young girl. There were dolls lined up on the shelves. One drawer was labeled

“BROKEN” and my curiosity only peaked. I opened it up and saw doll heads, bodies, arms and

legs all removed, even some strands of hair. Even in their inanimate form they seemed forlorn.

Immediately I closed the drawer back and headed to the small kitchen. There, I opened the

cupboards and found a box of crackers. I opened it up and found that they looked fine. As I ate

crackers two mice ran out of their holes and began to stare. Their deep black eyes were begging

for just a piece. I showed them a cracker and let their eyes follow it and then placed it on the

able, where they couldn’t reach. They jumped and scratched and tried so hard to reach the food,

I sat down and ate more crackers slightly entertained by the mice. One of the mice eventually

collapsed the other went to it and laid by it. I left the room and explored the mansion. I found

five other rooms each a clone of the other. Lifeless grey walls, royal red covers, beds made, a

wooden drawer in front of the bed. I walked around with another box of crackers I found, bored

out of mind. As I exited the last room a door slammed shut behind me. I shook it off until the

stairs creaked as though someone was coming up them. I grabbed a lamp from the table

instinctively and peered down the steps and saw no one. I bolted down the stairs, tripping over

myself as a stair fell through behind me. I reached the first floor and looked around. All was at

peace. I calmed myself I was only hearing things there was nothing there. I began to explore the

first level just out of curiosity and stumbled upon three paintings. As I stared into them I felt a

sense of familiarity, almost like belonging. There was a mother a father and a daughter. The

careful brown curls bouncing on her shoulders, the mother had a loving expression on her face,

carefully and sweetly smiling back. Her pallid blue eyes looked straight through me and

welcomed me with open arms. The father started sternly forward, though I still felt the same

familiarity. His brunette eyes pierced through me and his wavy blonde hair seemed to float just

atop his head. I looked at the girl her pigtails carefully falling, framing her face. I studied her soft

innocent face, grinning at the artist. I stared into her hazel eyes, they moved. I sprinted to the

door trying to get out of there. The door wouldn’t budge. I banged and screamed- over and over

again. I kept pleading but the door didn't comply. I ran to the window and aggressively threw the

lamp, no cracks, a rock, no cracks, my shoe, no cracks! This was driving me insane! I fell to the

wall and slid down, sobbing, how was I to get out? When would this house let me out? How did I

get here? Help! Help! My cries faded with my tears. I ran from door to window and back. Help

me please! Let me out! No answer. Let me out! Next door. Please!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many women and children had disappeared in the last year. All cases were unsolved. A

report came in about a man screeching for help. The address was 312 Old Willow Rd. We busted

through the door 28 year old Harold Grey was sobbing in the corner for help. Please let me out!

Oh please! We began to take him and he screamed. Please I only regained my memory please

forgive me! I know what I’ve done is wrong have mercy and let me out! He cried out. Cara

please forgive me. We struggled getting him through the door. You were my sister I didn’t mean

it I’m sorry. We took him to the psychiatric hospital. One of the men checked around the house

for a horrid smell. He found a door labeled “BROKEN”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LA TIMES SATURDAY OCTOBER 30, 2019

Mass disappearances source discovered. 28 year old Harold Grey found in his own

house, delusional. Neighbors claimed he was acting normal two days ago. His last victim, his

sister, Cara Grey.