11 Comments

The House of Carrick Close

This old house is broken and sad/weary with years/it sits low on the land.

Kate rolled her eyes and tuned out her mother’s atrocious poetry.  Bare trees reached up to the heavy February sky. It looked as dreary as she felt.

No one cared what she thought; no one ever paid attention to the teenager, the middle child, the girl.

But honestly, why should she be excited about moving half-way across the world to live in some ramshackle sea-side town so her mother could be inspired?!

Her little brother Charlie was practically peeing his pants he was so excited, but what did a six-year-old know about a dilapidated old – what did the estate agent call it? Oh, right, a fixer-upper.

A disaster was more like.

And her older brother Matthew didn’t even have to live with them full time – he was still in the States, at college. What right did he have to give the tumble-down rat motel his stamp of approval?!

A sloppy splat of snow and rain slapped the window.

Oh, that’s just great. Kate slumped lower in her seat and closed her eyes.

“Katy-Batey, we’re here!” Charlie sang out, rocking her back and forth until her forehead hit the window.

“Ow! Don’t call me that, Charlie.”

“Sorry! We’re here, Mom says to wake up! We’re here!”

old home irish-welshKate resisted the urge to snarl and let her little brother drag her from the car. There it was. Her nightmare. She stood in the drive and stared at it.

Something winked at her from the window.

“What’s that? Is there someone in there? Mom!”

“What, Honey? In there? It’s been boarded up for years – no one has been in there except the estate agent.”

Oh, that’s right, because Mother-Dear bought the place sight-unseen. God, so many things . . .

“But I saw someone in there.”

“Just a trick of the light, Kate. Now, come on, help me unload the car. Charlie!”

Kate trailed behind as Charlie raced her mother into the house. She stared at the window, daring whatever was inside to show itself again.

There!

That flutter.

Kate knew she wasn’t imagining things. Maybe this house – this move – wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

Written in response to Ionia‘s writing prompt for the week, This Old House.

About KM Sullivan

Descended of pirates and revolutionaries, KM Sullivan is a lover and student of all things Irish. Born in the States, she is a dual US/Irish citizen, and studied history and politics at University College, Dublin – although, at the time, she seriously considered switching to law, if only so she could attend lectures at the castle on campus. She lives in the American Midwest with her son, two cats and a pesky character in her head named D (but you can call him Dubh). Her first book, Changelings: Into the Mist, a young adult historical fantasy is available now on Amazon and Barns and Noble. She can be found writing with said character at her blog, The D/A Dialogues.

11 comments on “The House of Carrick Close

  1. My favorite part of this is that Kate is looking forward to a ghost or whatever is in there. None of that terror and creepy vibe that makes her continually try to get everyone to move out.

  2. I enjoyed the fact that Kate’s attitude did a quick turn around. I wasn’t expecting that. Well done, Katie.

  3. Okay…now I am intrigued and I want to hear the rest of the story! Now that she is curious, so am I.

  4. […] For a ghostly prompt | Read more about The House at Carrick Close. […]

  5. […] turns out she did. And I devoured them all. From Headless to the House of Carrick Close and its parter, Visitors, and then her most recent tale, The Sea. Katie, once she’s done […]

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