You grunted as the box in your hands fell with a loud thump onto your bed, dust puffing up in a light brown cloud. You took a step back, panting and wiping the sweat from your brow.
You had just moved to Maine. Family matters back at home had gotten increasingly worse, so common sense dictated that you had to get the hell outta dodge, but never in your life did you think you'd wind up in Derry of all places. The small town had a certain...air to it, and you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were being watched wherever you went.
When you had first arrived, you noticed numerous missing children pamphlets and flyers pinned up on lamp posts and the like, some looking barely older than 10 or 12. Heart aching and curious, you had walked into the real estate office for the keys to your new home, asking the lady working behind the desk what had been going on.
She had simply shaken her head, nonchalantly waving it off and explaining that every 27 years, a number of kids mysteriously go missing, and some were even presumed dead. When she left it at that, you had gotten back on the road, your gut screaming at you that something was amiss in this seemingly innocent town. But your brain reasoned that this was far beyond your expertise.
You stretched your arms high over your head, back popping soothingly as you let out an elongated yawn. The move had been arduous and exhausting, but all of your belongings made it inside safe and sound. Boxes big and small littered the floor of your new bedroom, but you were too tired to start unpacking yet. Your stomach growled at you, reminding you that you hadn't fed it in well over a few hours.
You made your way downstairs, whistling a lovely tune as you took a gander at your new house: in the center of the living room, there stood a forest green love seat, a nicely sized television pistoned on a cute little coffee table your mother so happily supplied. A decorative rug was splayed on the floor in front of the door, giving way to smooth wood- the place was already starting to feel like home.
You turned into the kitchen towards the fridge. You searched the appliance, heart sinking when you found it a barren wasteland. You shut the door, sighing.
"Don't know why I expected anything different." You said to the air. You clicked your tongue and started towards the door, wrapping yourself up in a jacket and fetching your keys.
After locking it behind you, you stepped out into the chilly evening. A soft drizzle had started up, the rain annoyingly plopping onto your (h/c) locks. You got to your car and grasped the handle, but before making another move, a peculiar feeling came over you, making your neck hairs stand on end. You glanced around, eyes landing on something in the distance.
Was it...a balloon?
Confusion came over you as you studied it, the firetruck red object floating creepily stagnant, even in the slight wind and rain. You shook your head. 'Some kid probably left it there.' You thought, your gaze now landing on the house behind it.
It was the creepiest, most frightening house you had ever seen in your life. It was a drab and ugly gray, all the windows broken or dirty beyond cleanliness. A gnarly chain link fence surrounded the house, rusted from misuse and old age. The stairs leading to the warped wooden door were splintered and collapsing in on themselves, and the yard was an unkempt nightmare, weeds sprouting up every which way with the grass having long since been dried out.
You couldn't help it as a chill slashed through your being like a cold knife. You quickly opened the car door and stepped in. The engine roared to life when you stuck the key in the ignition. You leaned back, catching your breath as you dared take another peek over at the desolate house.
The balloon had simply vanished as if it had never been there. Frustrated and confused beyond belief, you rolled out and drove towards the supermarket, the feeling of being watched once again hitting you full force.