I stayed at a haunted house a few years ago, and no, I didn't misspeak.

Is the only name I felt was fitting for it?

A genuine haunted house would have been a vacation compared to the nightmare I lived through.

A few doors creaking the night, some abrasion standing over me, even a crying little girl

in the wind, when nothing compared to the depravity of living human beings.

It all started when I planned a simple getaway with some bodies of mine.

We were the typical group of teenage idiots.

It was five of us.

My buddy Darryl, his girl Allison, my best friend Kevin, and my crush Mary Beth.

We all decided to go on one final trip before everyone went off to start their lives.

And Allison were both going to New York for college.

Kevin was shipping out the bootcamp, and Mary Beth was planning to travel Europe for

a while to do some backpacking with some of her girlfriends.

Her parents had their kind of money, so she was taking a holiday year to herself, I guess.

I hate to admit it, but I was jealous of them all.

Me?

Well, I was the loser without plans.

I had a job at a convenience store, and was going to live in my parents' basement.

To be honest, I was treading the end of summer.

I was going to be all alone in our little neighbourhood for the first time since I moved

there.

Five, care every years of hanging out with my friends almost every goddamn night.

...