PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The Big House.

The Big House stood away from the town, no one remembers when it was built or even who owned this monstrosity of a building. Many were the taales told about the house from murder down to slavery and all kinds of criminal activities.

For the school children the Big House was a warning no one would go there of their own free will. I was a nosy boy and one day plucked up enough courage to go to the Big House.

First I knocked hard on the door at the front of the house. No answer so I started Kicking the front door. One of my kicks caused the door to open slowly at first then a squealing noise as if some one had ill treated a child. It was dark in the large entrance hall. Now I asked myself you have kicked the door open what do you do next?

Slowly I crept along the floor to a door leading into another very large room. The windows were full length running from the floor to the ceiling. One large table ran the full length of the room. Chairs were to be seen everywhere on the table , under the table laying strewn around the room. This room had not been used for a very long time. Dust was to be seen everywhere.

Taking my courage in my hands I decided to go all over this old rambling house. First the ground floor. Traces were to be seen of where people had gained entrance and made themselves a sleeping place. Torn pieces of burnt paper were in the fireplaces. With paper I thought they could not have kept themselves very warm. Four stories high with at the very top of the house the attic. It was here that I found the secret room. A very large mirror fixed to the wall was actually a door into the secret room. I liked the look of this old mirror and decided to take it with me we could use such a nice big mirror at home.

Pushing a piece of wood into the side of the mirror the mirror swung open revealing this room. A bed complete with mattress and some pillows were to be seen and a large leather chest. The chest proved to be very interesting. Two old horse pistols were on top of some books and a small leather bag with some gold coins.

I changed my mind about taking the mirror home with me as long as the big House stood empty I would use it as my own place. Slowly but surely I transferred all of my possessions to the secret room this I told myself is now my house.

The House has stood empty for many years. I had no rights at all andknew that I was breaking a dozen or more laws by just being in the house. The gold I sent in a small parcel to the local hospital. The Horse Pistols are now in the local museum the books are still in the Big House apart from the occasional passer by that opened a window to stay the night noone came at all. The attic was never visited and my secret room was my secret until one day men came to pull the Big House down. Why am I telling you all this. Well the big House was my way of life. I told all the kids at school that I owned the House. My stories that I invented would fill many books.

My Favourite was the imaginary elderly lady that lived in the house. In my stories she had a complete household with servants and a Butler. I could not tell any of the kids about the Gardeners no one would have believed me all could see that no one had worked in the gardens for many years.

The indoor servants now that was another thing. The cook in charte of the kitchens cooked for me all of my favourite dishes. The serving maids brought the food to the room with the long table that I mentioned in the first part of the story. Here in this room the elderly lady told me about the grandness of the House in the past and of the visitors from rich and famous Families even Royalty had wined and dined in this Big House. I was now known at school to be a liar and a cheat but all listened to my stories, some even used my stories when writing essays for English lessons.

I went to the big house and rescued one of the bricks from the debris that was left. I have it at home as a souvenir. It is the basis for many a story when visitors come to see me. I know I have overdone this story but then I wanted you all to share my imaginations. I have so many of these stories in my head and knowing that some one is reading what I have written is pleasing to me. Thank you for taking the trouble to read this my imaginary Big House. Bern