1
Shelly stared out of the window as she and her family pulled into the driveway of her grandmother's house. It looked the same, but somehow different. She was expecting her grandmother to walk up with a warm smile and a big hug, but she knew she wasn't going to come. She sighed, trying to hold back tears. She had done nothing but cry since her mom told her the bad news three days ago. The funeral was in2 days; she was going to wear the dress her grandmother bought her last Christmas. It was her favorite.
"Come on honey." Her mom said to her, opening the car door to let her out. Shelly got out, but her legs were shaky and she felt like she was going to faint. "We need to go pick up a bit and get things ready…" Shelly didn't here the rest. She just wanted to block everything out and pretend like it was all a dream. She knew it wasn't, but it made her feel better. She walked up to the front door and opened it. Everything looked the same, it smelt the same but it didn't feel the same. It felt cold and empty, like any other house. She felt like a stranger.
"M-mom." Shelly said softly, "I'm going to go to my room."
"Of course, it's ok." Her mom looked at her with sad eyes. She had taken it hard, but not as hard as Shelly. She walked down the familiar hallway into what was once her grandmother's room when she was her age. Everything was the same. The same bright yellow waterbed with all the stuffed animals and the same oval mirror covered in magazine cutouts. She couldn't hold it back any longer; she began to cry. Warm tears rolled down her cheeks and fell to the floor. She reached up and grabbed a stuffed animal and held it tight in her arms. She sat there for an hour before her mother came in to check on her. "Oh…sweetie." she said quietly, tears welling in her eyes, "How 'bout you come help me with dinner. I'm sure it will help to take your mind off things." She looked down at her hopefully. Shelly got up and placed the stuffed animal back on the bed and nodded her head.
"Yeah…" she said sadly and walked out to the kitchen. Things were silent as her and her mom cut up vegetables for salad. It was her mom who finally broke the silence.
"I know this has been hard for you, you were very close with her. Your father and I have been talking, and we think it would be best if we moved in."
"What do you mean? Like…lived here?"
"Yes, to keep things up. Your grandmother loved this place; it was her last wish that the house stay in the family. I don't know why, it's so old…but your father and I feel it best to honor her last wish. Are you ok with this?"
"Yes!" Shelly shouted happily. She loved this neighborhood almost as much as her grandmother. She didn't have many friends back where she lived and she would love to grow up in the same house as her grandmother did. It was a dream come true.
That night after dinner, Shelly sat at the window in her room and looked up at a familiar site; a decrepit old mansion that stood on top of a twisted and sinister looking hill. The base for all the stories that her grandmother told her; there was a flickering light in the tower window and she started to wonder if the stories about the man with scissors for hands were real.
