12 North Main St

Adeline hadn't thought of the place in which she grew up in well over a decade. The only reason she even came back to her hometown was to attend her grandmother's funeral. She had run as far away from this place as she could, feeling like the town itself sucked the life right out of those who lived there. She wasn't going to amount to nothing like her grandfather used to scream in her face. Adeline was determined to make something of herself, and the only way to do that was to leave for good.

Her career has skyrocketed in the past few years. Her only regret was not being able to prove herself to Grand-dad before his passing. Her grandmother on the other hand, was very proud of the woman she had become. Nothing meant more to her than that. She missed Mammy dearly, and wished she had been closer to home to spend more time with her before it was too late.

Currently, Adeline stood in front of the apartment house she spent her childhood in on Main Street. It was a large white house with green trim and a large porch that stretched across the front of the building. There were several mailboxes by the front door, each marking an apartment. At one point in her life, each was occupied by a family member.

She found herself in the foyer on the first level. Once upon a time, that house had been a funeral home. The two apartments that were on each side of her were the showing rooms at that time. Now, they were the two largest apartments in the place. The one on the right was her grandparents' and the left had belonged to her oldest uncle. Downstairs was nothing but storage for the tenants and a laundry area. She wanted to go down there, but instead climbed the stairs to the next level.

Adeline paused at the first flight, a ledge hung over the foyer. That place used to be considered her and her cousins' clubhouse as children. They would sit up there playing with their imaginary friend for hours. She kept going. At the top of the stairs, she stood in a hall with three doors. The one behind the banister over the stairs used to belong to her aunt. The next door was around the corner to the left. That apartment was her God father's and his wife. The last door on the left before you hit the stairs to go back down belonged to her parents. Behind the door was more stairs that led up to their attic apartment. That's where they lived when her little brother was born. She had so many vivid memories in that place. One year, on Christmas, she had been opening the small gifts in her stocking and had vomited into the fuzzy fabric and all of its contents. In the same apartment she had built stairs to her bed so that her pet bunny could climb up and sleep with her. Another time, she had been going downstairs to visit her grandma and tripped before reaching her own door. She tumbled to the bottom having diarrhea on her way. She had cried there until her mother found her and helped her wash up. She had always been a clumsy kid. She even recalled sitting on the edge of an open dumpster in the backyard to tie her shoe when she was seven. The landlord had been putting a new roof on the house. She wasn't sure what had caused it to swing shut, but her leg had been pinned in the lock. She screamed bloody murder. It was the first time she had ridden in an ambulance, been in the hospital, and had x-rays.

Adeline didnt want to disturb any of the current residents so she went back down to the basement door. She stood there for a moment before she turned the nob. Once in the basement, she turned to the right. Nothing had changed. There was still the dingy white washtub next to the washer and dryer. She went left instead. The shelves under the stairs were dusty, but otherwise empty. The jars of pickled entrails, at least that's what she thought they were as a kid, had long since been removed. On the floor, in the most open space, was a ring set in to the concrete. That ring marked where the embalming tub used to be. She had only ever seen the ring and never the tub itself.

In the back of the basement there was a small brick room. It used to be the spot her grandparents used for storage. She remembered playing on an old exercise bike with a fan for the front wheel in there as a kid. That area made her the most nervous. Adeline ventured in, braving her childhood fears. As an adult she felt they were irrational and that this was a necessary part of getting over them. Once inside, the same old feeling crept up on her. The air felt thick and like it was pressing on her, heavy with the smell of mildew and something else she could never place. The longer she was there the less she felt like she could breath. The uneasy feeling of being trapped and suffocating was prevalent. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes as she felt invisible hands crushing down on her throat. She had always thought she imagined all of that, but here she was experiencing it all over again. She was frozen and choking. She had to escape, but it took all of her energy to even to take a single step backwards. One, and then another. She kept forcing each individual step. What seemed like an eternity later she was out of the door where she was more free to breath and move. Her instincts screamed at her to run.

Adeline spun on her heels and made for the stairs. The steps groaned under her weight, as she was hurdling them two or more at a time. She was in flight mode, instinctually afraid for her life. Something was down there that never wanted her to leave. On the sidewalk, her hands found her knees as she was hunched over heaving air in and out of her lungs. She looked back at the house, wondering if her imaginary friend may have been the first person to feel those things. She wondered what awful thing could have happened to that girl down there. Maybe that's why she was unable to leave the house and rest in peace. All she knew at this point, was that she would never return. After all, they say curiosity killed the cat. She refused to be that foolish cat. It was time to move on and try to forget that it ever happened at all, even though she knew that that was impossible.