The word for today; Conjoure
1.call upon (a spirit or ghost) to appear, by means of a magic ritual.“they hoped to conjure up the spirit of their dead friend”
Every day as I drove to work; my eyes gazed the old, white building. Repeating thoughts arose. Who lived there? Why is it still abandoned? Doesn’t someone care?
The thoughts continually went back to my childhood where I wondered the same things about myself. Why did I live there? Why did they make me feel abandoned? Why didn’t they care?
I knew something was different by the age of three. When I tried expressing myself at that age, I was told to shut up. If I cried, they put me to bed. If they went out, I had a babysitter.
As I grew a little older, I learned to have imaginary friends with me at all times. There was Betsy. She was my favorite. She always greeted me with a big smile. She enjoyed my company and we played lots of games.
Then there was Betty Sue. She let me lay my head in her lap when I was tired or sad. She would run her fingers through my blonde, curly hair until I fell asleep or felt better.
Then there was Bobby. Sometimes Bobby scared me. I asked him different times to leave me alone; but he wouldn’t. He seemed to always show up when I was sitting around just thinking. It was like he could read my mind.
He would come into my room on a weird kind of looking sled. He would spin upside down and do tricks I could never do. He would show me visions of mazes and tell me about this old, white house that set right in the middle of the screen. I never recognized the house; but the paths of the maze felt familiar but confusing.
It was a Fall, crisp day. I had worked too many hours so was told to go home early and return on Monday. I was driving and saw the familiar site. I glanced at my watch. Yes, I have time. I am going to get this settled. I am going to find out the story within the walls.
I pulled up the dirt, curvy driveway. I turned off my engine and sat there looking dead on the white house. Quiet, quiet screamed all around me and yet there were these invisible fingers prodding at me saying, Come on little one. Step onto the porch steps. Learn the truth.
I took my keys out of the ignition. I locked my purse inside the car. With keys in hand, I pulled my sweater a little closer to me. I walked slowly, one foot in front of the other, until I reached the first porch step.
I turned back as if afraid of what I couldn’t see, but once again, those fingers prodding at my soul. I stepped onto that first step, then another and stepped onto the porch landing. The door slowly and creakily opened.
I could see a golden ray of light and without hesitation; I followed it. Once inside, my fears left. The prodding fingers disappeared. My soul felt lightened. There on the walls of this abandoned house were the answers to all of my questions.
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