The Haunted House On The School's Hill

It’s all changed since I was last there.

I don’t live in that area, and it has been eleven years since I left Primary School. The house might still stand. The grassy areas now have new homes built on them. The home might have been demolished when the other houses were being mad; I’m not sure.

The house wasn’t big at all. Bungalow, maybe one small living room/dining room area and a bedroom room and toilet on the other side. A small fence offered a tiny front garden; there was no back garden. It stood in solitude with a newer home cowering far behind it.

The building stood close to the school.

When you walked out of the P1 playground, it was there, just off to the side, standing in silence.

I never took much notice of it. Unless you were trying to look at it, you couldn’t see it from the playground all the time. A small “hill” accompanied by steps you had to walk up to reach the path it sat alongside. I lived far enough away from the school to be entitled to the bus service. I had no reason to go up there. The few times I did go up was to go to my Mum’s friends house after school, she lived in the opposite direction from home. I never needed to pass it.

I don’t remember how old I was; only that we were on a day out with the class for a nature hunt or something. We were looking for various plants and bugs. To get to the first location, they walked us past the house. We stopped in line with what was still trying to be called a front door.

The structure stood visibly apparent its structure wanted to collapse and end the pain although The home fought to stand firm and proud.

This day is the first day I remember the feeling I now experience often. It was anxiety or fear. I felt something thick and dark engulf me. Whatever I felt, it drew me towards the decrepit building, like someone had a hold of me and was trying to pull me closer and closer.

One of my classmates saw my attention locked on this house; they lived a lot closer to it. My classmate had also lived here their whole life as had their family; Stories had been passed down through their family. I hadn’t had that experience.

While we waited for whatever we had stopped for, my classmate decided to tell me the story of the decrepit building. According to them, the house had once belonged to an elderly couple. Their home is was meant to be used for the school’s car park, when the school was being built. However, the couple had built the house themselves and refused to sell or leave. After months of the dispute back and forth, a decision was made to make the car park smaller entirely.

After a few years passed without much incident, the couple had begun to appreciate the sound of children having fun. It wasn’t the end of the world. They still enjoyed their life together, as far as anyone could tell.

One winter was horrible. Black ice everywhere. The shops are a short five-minute walk from the couple’s front door, with no need for car expenses. This day wasn’t that different from any other day that week apparently. The couple went out just after lunchtime, went shopping and something to eat in the local cafe before coming home.

Children of eleven-year-olds from the school had heard rumours about the couple.

The husband was known for killing the local pets that wandered near his land. She was a witch. For the eleven-year-olds, that was the only truth and evidence they needed, but both claims were false.

A cat crossed in front of the couple, rubbing its furry cheeks against the wife’s leg. The husband took the shopping bags and started the few feet to the front door. As he turned back, he saw the cat run off, clearly finished with the pets.

The children charged out of the bushes screaming at the wife about how she is a nasty witch. A malicious mixture of her fear, the ice and her attempt to create space between herself and children caused her tragic loss.

The wife lay silent and still at the bottom of the small set of steps, the whites of her hair and jacket now in stark contrast to the newly developing red colour spreading across the ground around her. Before she hit the ground. the children were gone. Now, her husband stood frozen in shock, his body fighting to take a step, to run and comfort his love. It was already too late for comfort.

Some stories say that Police didn’t believe his tale that mere children had caused this. Others say that the children were found not guilty for their actions.

No justice was served for the senseless murder of his wife, either way.

The man never left the house next to the school; he stayed holding on to the physical reminders of his wife’s loving touch. He was never the same. Every day he saw the children at the school play and have fun; hearing their not-so-quiet whispers from his living room. Children attending the school now have nothing to do with his wife, in fact, most of them wouldn’t have been born when his wife passed. Nevertheless, their playful laughter stood as a stark reminder of the haunting glee the murderous younglings displayed as they stole his love.

Some people have said that children who have gone missing in town are because they got too close to his house or they laughed too loud and he took them. Any time the Police went to his house to investigate these claims nothing ever came up. He died about ten years before I started school. Apparently, no one knew he was dead for weeks. It was the disappearance of another child that caused the Police to go to his home. When he didn’t answer the door and found out no one had seen or heard from him in weeks they were allowed to enter his home. Police entered and found him in his living room, in his favourite seat, angled so that he was looking straight at the playground.

I don’t know why the house still stands. The council have tried several times to demolish the home but every time they get plans together something happens. An obscure law comes to light, some important to the demolition passes, another child goes missing or something else eerily relevant.

Some people are convinced they have seen him walking around the plot of land and other areas nearby.

These people believe that it is him that is stopping the demolition of his house. Kids still go missing to this day, people still believe it is him; getting revenge from the grave. No one truly knows.

All I know is something is definitely in the house.

I’m just too old for it now.

Clarity

Primary School – Attended Between the ages 4/5 to 11/12

Starting Ages For Each Primary

P1 – 5
P2 – 6
P3 – 7
P4 – 8
P5 – 9
P6 – 10
P7 – 11

These ages can vary depending on when your birthday falls. My birthday is May so these where my ages starting each primary.

The Inspiration

My primary school sat at the bottom of a dead-end street. In the front and to one side sat an open grassland, with a wall of tree separating the grass from the high-speed road at the other side. At the back of the school and to the side was houses. If you stood at the back of the school, where the Primary One play area was, and looked up the small incline, you would see the houses and a path. Following the path to the right, you would see a small bungalow sitting isolated, the haunted house.

No one has lived in the haunted house for years, as far as I can remember.

It looked exactly as I described in the story. I’m pretty sure this house was on its last legs when I was in Primary School. This look only added to its haunted house vibe.

In Primary Three or Four, my class were going out to walk around my town to look for bugs. It had something to do with our bug project. We had worksheets we were to fill in. It just so happened that we stopped outside the wee house while the teachers got themselves sorted or something. At this point, I had fallen in love with the TV Show Charmed (1998) so anything spooky meant magic. Including the house, that I was about to be told was a haunted house! As soon as the teachers didn’t need us to listen was when one of my friends (who had lived in the town his whole life) decided to tell me the ghost story of the house.

Since we were only around seven or eight, there wasn’t as much detail to his story as I’ve added but the foundation of his story is in there. It freaked me out and anytime I saw the house it gave me the heebie-jeebies. All I knew was that a haunted house, full of magic and entities verge on the school grounds, watching us.

I don’t know if the haunted house is still standing. I don’t live at that end of town so I haven’t passed the school in a long time. Writing this makes me wonder if the story of the wee haunted house is still told by the children who live nearby.