The Witch House

 

They told Thalia she was too young, immature, and irresponsible to own a house. Despite their barrage of criticism, the determined young woman aspired to prove them wrong. And she did.

Thalia bought her first house all on her own, silencing her naysayers. It was an older home, built in the Clapboard-style. The house sat at the end of a dead end street away from all the other homes in the neighborhood.

Thalia’s house was not like the rest. Her was much older and its architectural style was simple. The other homes down the street were newer and more intricate in design. The original owner of Thalia’s house had it painted black while the other homes were colorfully vibrant.

Its lack of charm made sense as to why it had stayed on the market for so long. Thalia's family and friends were turned off by her house. They didn't understand why she had taken a bizarre interest in it when there were better houses on the market.

Thalia paid their opinions no mind. She didn’t care. That house was a prize to her. Only she saw the potential it had to offer. She would renovate and decorate the house in the way she so desired.

“Your keys.” The realtor quickly handed them off to Thalia. She was relieved; the house was finally out of her hands. “Congratulations on your new home, Thalia! I wish you the best. Good day.” The realtor hurried to her car and sped out of the neighborhood quickly.

Thalia thought it odd, but didn’t dwell on the realtor’s strange behavior too much. Her primary concern was getting her house in order.

“Are you the new owner of this house?” Two the neighborhood children walked up to Thalia as she was unloading some boxes out the car.

 

Thalia proudly answered, “Yes I am.”

“I don’t know if anyone has told you this yet, but your house used to belong to a witch.” The unsolicited claim from the children frightened Thalia. “They said she was murdered and her killers buried her under the floor.” Thalia was unnerved by the children’s words. She craned her neck at them. Thalia hoped the children were just messing with her.

“Um…where are you parents? You kids shouldn’t be talking to strangers. It’s dangerous.” Thalia attempted to change the conversation quickly, but the children continued to impart the frightening history of the house upon her.

“It’s cursed, you know. Your house is cursed.” The girl told her matter-of-factly. A crowd of neighbors began to gather across the street. They watched Thalia like she was some animal in a zoo. They whispered and sneered at her. 

 

The children hurried across the street where they were surrounded by the crowd. Thalia was certain the crowd was asking the children about her. 

 

She grabbed the last few boxes and hauled them into the house. “Weirdos.” She commented before closing the door. It was obvious to Thalia that she would not be making friends with her neighbors.

Two weeks later, the neighborhood came together to host a BBQ. Thalia realized she and her odd neighbors had started off on the wrong foot; Thalia wanted to try again before she wrote them off completely. The night before, Thalia made a strawberry cake which she took to the party.

Judging by their body language and facial expressions, the neighbors didn’t want her there with them. They were all cold and avoided eye contact with her.

She tried (and failed) to spark conversations with her neighbors. Eventually, she gave up and left. “Thank God…” She heard one of the women mumble. When Thalia turn around, she saw the neighbors throwing her cake in the trash. That act devastated her.

That night, Thalia phoned her father and cried about how poorly her neighbors were treating her. “They threw it in the trash like it was nothing.” She cried like a child whose dreams had been crushed. “I don’t understand why they don’t like me, daddy. They don’t know me. They won’t even get to know me.”

“Why don’t you come back home for a few days. Get away from those assholes for a while.” Thalia took her father up on his suggestion.

In the early hours of the following morning, Thalia awakened to the loud sounds of sirens and red lights outside her house. The wife of a neighbor was transported to the hospital. The woman’s husband immediately confronted Thalia when he spied her. “You! Did you poison that cake?” The man lashed out at Thalia mercilessly.

“What-what are you getting at?” The accusation infuriated Thalia. She would never stoop to something so nefarious. “No one touched that cake. You all threw it in the trash whole; I saw it with my own eyes.”

Thalia was innocent, but the neighbors weren’t buying it. They believed she was responsible for the wife’s sudden illness. They accused her of being evil and that her presence in the neighborhood would only bring misfortune to everyone.

The hostility and ostracism Thalia experienced at the hands of her neighbors escalated in the coming days. They went from ignoring her presence to bullying and harassment. Thalia found her house vandalized after returning home from work one evening. Someone wrote across the front, “A WITCH lives here” in red spray paint.

The children pelted her with rocks and attacked her with silly string every chance they got. “She’s a witch! She’s a witch!” They sang as they tormented her.

“Fuck. Off!” She shrieked at the children. They scattered like roaches, laughing and screaming as they ran home.

Thalia brought the issues up with the HOA, but they told her they couldn’t do anything without proof. “You’ve got to be shitting me right now!” Thalia went to the police, but they were little help as well.

Defeated, emotionally and mentally exhausted, Thalia gave up and returned home. “No. No. No. No. No. No!” Someone had ignited a fire on her front yard. They had tried to burn her house down or worse, tried to kill her. Of that, Thalia was certain.

The neighbors gathered in a crowd on the other side of the street. They smiled and whispered among themselves. “Who did this!?” Thalia screamed at them. No one said a word. “Why the fuck would anyone pull some shit like this?! Fuck you horrible ass people!”

Thankfully, the fire department arrived just in time and extinguished the blaze before it reached the house. Thalia’s yard was left charred and blackened. The grass never grew back which further solidified the neighbor's claim that she was a possible witch.

She tried once again to file a report with the police but again, nothing was done about it. She didn’t have proof of her neighbors' involvement. 

Thalia phoned her realtor and berated the woman for not disclosing her neighbors’ psychotic behavior.

“They’re really nice people.” Thalia knew the woman was trying to force the lie. She heard it in her voice. “No one’s ever complained about them. Maybe you’re the problem.” Thalia was appalled by the accusation. She cussed the realtor and called her every obscenity under the sun. “I’m sorry Thalia but I have to go now. I have other clients to attend to.” The woman hung up in Thalia’s face. She tried to call her back, but the call wouldn’t go through that time. The realtor blocked her number. 

The bullying, the harassment, the torment and the accusations continued. Increasing viciously as they days went on. Thalia was afraid to leave her house anymore. Her neighbors would stand outside, watching her, and yelling obscenities. They also dumped garbage on her yard.

Her relationships with her family and friends became fractured and estranged. Eventually, she lost her job. Her sanity soon followed. The house she so loved became a physical, emotional, and mental prison. 

 

When Thalia had finally had enough, she decided to abandon the house. She asked her parents if she could return home, which the obliged happily. Thalia would retrieve her belongings at a later time. The only thing she was focused on was getting as far away from those deranged neighbors as possible.

Thalia loaded up her car with the few items she could take. It devastated her having to abandon the house she worked so hard to purchase, but had she stayed any longer, her neighbors more than likely would have killed her, or drove her to suicide.

“You assholes won!” She yelled at them from across the way. “I’m done. I’m leaving!” The neighbors whooped and cheered. Thalia gave them the finger as she drove away.

The nightmare wasn’t over for Thalia just yet, however. The neighbors had one last thing in store for her.

Three trucks came up from behind and surrounded Thalia’s car on every side. Their blinding headlights made it hard for Thalia to see the road. The green truck rammed Thalia from behind; the other two cars joined in, ramming her from the sides.

A rock was launched through her back window which struck Thalia in the head. She lost control of the car and plummeted down below into the river. She kicked at her window, but tragically it would not budge. Thalia was hopelessly trapped. There was no way out for her.

As Thalia’s car sank deeper into the river's depths, she uncovered a horrifying secret. Dozens of cars littered the riverbed like a watery graveyard. Horrified, Thalia realized she wasn't the only one. Unfortunately for her, she wound up as their newest addition.

“I guess she wasn’t a witch after all.” The children remarked disappointingly, as the last bit of Thalia's car was swallowed up by the river's dark waters.

Thalia’s house went back on the market, but it sat vacant for the next three to four years.

Eventually, the house was purchased by a young couple, Martin and Cynthia. Cynthia was pregnant with the couple’s first child and was excited about buying their first home together. “We can’t wait to make this house a home.” Martin told the realtor.

“It’s the perfect house for a couple just starting out. Congratulations on your new home and your pregnancy.” She turned over the keys to the couple.

As she had done with Thalia before, the realtor hurried to her car and sped off down the road which raised eyebrows with the couple. The excitement of their new house, however, overshadowed the realtor's suspicious behavior.

While getting ready to take some boxes inside, the couple noticed the crowd of neighbors gathering on the other side of the street. They waved but were only met with blank stares. “Okay… Odd…” 

 

Two of the neighborhood children walked up to Martin and Cynthia as they were unloading their car. 

“I don’t know if anyone has told you this yet, but your house used to belong to a witch.”