FACADE: By Chad Haskins
Monday, December 26th, 2011The front door is wide open, letting bright light escape into the darkness.
“Hello?”
No answer.
“Hello?” I repeat, a little bit louder. “Is anybody home?”
I step inside the two story home, nearly identical to the other hundred or so in the neighborhood, including my own. I’ve never met the owner of this one though. I was taking a walk to get some fresh air, and I saw the front door open. It was freezing outside, and I waited for several minutes, watching the wind blow snow inside the house. I should have kept walking…but I was curious.
There are stairs to my right, a hallway straight ahead that leads the kitchen, and then the family room is on the other side.
“Hello? I am your neighbor. I saw the front door was open. I am in your house. Is anyone here?”
I walk into the kitchen, and the table is set. On the counter there is a cooked ham, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, some kind of fruit salad and lots of other food, all ready to be eaten.
I take another step and something goes “crunch” beneath my foot. I look down and see shards of glass and also a broken plate.
“Hello? Anybody here?”
I enter the family room and notice a huge flat screen TV is on. The movie It’s a Wonderful Life is playing. It’s at the part where George is in financial trouble, and he gets angry at his daughter for playing the piano; he then yells at everyone, and his wife tells him to leave—he is in trouble.
The TV is obviously new because the opened box to the TV is on the floor. There are also lots of new toys and wrapping paper scattered everywhere. All the presents have been unwrapped, even though it is only Christmas Eve.
I pick up a tiny velvet box on the lamptable and open it. Inside is a large diamond ring. I also notice a small piece of paper that looks as though it had been folded many times, perhaps being placed inside the box with the ring. I smooth out the paper, and it says,”Look in the garage.” I know the garage is behind the door on the farside of the family room, so I walk over and open it. In the middle of the garage there is shiny yellow Ford Mustang with a red Christmas bow around it. There must have been a lot of smiling faces around here recently.
I shut the door and hear something upstairs. My heart races and my stomach is in my throat. At this point I don’t know if I should say “hello” or just run like hell out of there.
All of a sudden I hear a “pat, pat, pat, pat” coming down the stairs.
“Hello! I don’t want to scare you. I am your neighbor. Your door was open. I thought something was wrong, so I came inside.”
Around the corner appears a medium size dog with short brown hair. He approaches and sniffs my hand. He wags his tail and seems friendly, as if he knows me. The tag around the dog’s neck reads “Mattie”.
“Hey pooch. Where is everybody?”
The dog turns, and I see a red stains covering his left side—it looks like blood.
”Shit,” I say, jolting me back to reality.
Mattie becomes frantic and seems to be trying to get me to follow her.
She goes back up the stairs and peers down at me from the top.
I limp up slowly, each step painful, andfollow her into the master bedroom.
I turn on the lights and see three bodies on the bed, and lots of blood.
I dial 911 on my phone for help.
At the foot of the bed there are several pieces of paper laid out. One is a foreclosure notice. Another is a termination of employment letter. The others are unpaid medical bills.
From my back pocket I take out another piece of paper and lay it on top. It says, “Life Insurance Policy,” and down at the bottom it says $1,000,000. I’ve read all the fine print.
I look again at the bed and realize there are only pillows there. I also see a paint can with red paint that had been knocked over. That must have been what Mattie had gotten in to. I forgot my wife had been doing some painting in here recently.
As I hear sirens getting louder, I turn out the lights and lay down on the bed, pointing the gun into the roof of my mouth.
I close my eyes and pull the trigger, letting bright light escape into the darkness.
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©2011 Chad Haskins
