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The Delusion


This work has been submitted to the public on 01-Feb-2013 08:35 and is therefore protected by Copyright law as from this date. Protection is only sought on what has been made public on this page - any links to external sites or references to documents which have not been included are not covered within this protection.

Copyright Category: Publications and Books
Type of Work: Literary
Copyright Holder: BriAnna Nicole Wagnon
Website: http://allpoetry.com/BriAnnaNicole
Year Published / Made Public in: 2013
Date Added to Copyright Register: 01-Feb-2013 08:35
Last updated: 09-Feb-2013 12:19


Literary Copyright Work Details:

~The Delusion~

Salem, June 6,1666.

 

A

   Prologue~

tticus Shay Adair is a sixteen year old boy, but don’t let his age fool you. He is most certainly not your ordinary teenager. He doesn’t have ‘friends’, and he rarely ever leaves his attic, nonetheless his house.

His parents, Emery and Avory, had given up on him a long time ago. They no longer tried to get him to be a normal social teenager, because they had already tried everything they could. They just went about their own and let him fend for himself, because really, they had no choice..

You see, his parents died, when he was only seven years old. They died in a house fire, but the fire never touched the attic, only the bottom two floors of the house. The police investigators never figured out why the fire only reached a certain level of the house- or where Atticus had gone, because they had only found two bodies, which were his parents.

Atticus never knew it had happened, because he was asleep, but when he awoke, he smelled something rancid, like rotting flesh.. He had gone downstairs, and what he saw scarred him for nine years; he saw his mother and father lying in the floor, side by side, burned to a crisp.

He fell to his knees in between them and cried until his eyes could no longer produce any more tears. Suddenly, he felt something lightly touch his knee, it was his mother’s hand, and she said softly “go back up to the attic, son. I love you, and I will always be with you, no matter wha--.” Her hand dropped as her black eyes slowly shut, and she was gone. While one tear ran down his face, he obeyed his mother, and went back up to the attic, rarely ever coming downstairs for anything ever again.

Ever since the fire, Atticus had been even more manic than he already was; he would lock himself in the attic for days on end, even though he was the only person living in that house.

He would stare out of his large glass window, looking down at the cruel, ordinary world. He thought that if he stayed up in his attic, that no harm would ever come to him, especially because of Jonah and Skylar.

 

 

Chapter One~

 

Jonah and Skylar are Atticus’ best friends, who are always with him-- no matter what. Jonah is seventeen years old; he has been this age since 1555, and it is now June 6, 1696. Skylar is Jonah’s younger brother, at age sixteen; both boys died on the same day, in the same incident, which has always been unknown to Atticus.

Every day is usually the same, for young Atticus and his friends.. But today, today was different--What started out as a normal day, turned into a life-changing event. 

It all started with Atticus sitting on his bench near the large window, as usual, peering down at the outside world; he soon became sidetracked when a flier came in through the window and landed in his lap---

 

It read:

~~~~~~~~

 “Surreal Salem Séances!

Come, join us!

Speak to your deceased loved ones, find out where relatives hid the family jewels, or just catch up on old times!

For more information:

Call 569-385-1385,

Or

Come to this address:

666 Fleet Street, Salem, NC, 30145.

You’ll die to see this..”

                                                ~~~~~~~~

Printed and Pressed: June 6, 1666.

 

 

Atticus was puzzled, because the name and address sounded so familiar to him, but he had no idea why.

Jonah looked at him oddly, and said “Yanno, Atticus, I have a bad feeling about this..”

“Why is that?”Atticus asked, bemused.

Jonah took one look at him, ripped the flier from his hands, and threw it in the air as Atticus watched it go up in flames. Atticus just stood there, expressionless, and sat back down on his bench. Deep into thought, he stared out the window; wondering where he knew that name and address from.. The curiosity was killing him, and he had to do something about it.

Jonah and Skylar knew something was up with Atticus, because he was acting quite peculiar, even for him.

Atticus sat and thought to himself all day, and finally he did something he hadn’t done in years.. He stepped outside on his front porch and paced down the creaky old steps out into the dead yard. People were passing by in their winter clothing, both walking and in their cars; their headlights on bright through the snow. Nobody even noticed Atticus; it was as if he were invisible, or like he wasn’t really there.

He went to check the mailbox to see if he had any mail, but the mailbox was empty. “How could it be empty if I haven’t checked it in around a century?,,” he thought to himself, but he could not find an answer. He then saw the side of the mailbox had read “666 Fleet Street, Salem, NC, 30145”.

Atticus didn’t know what to think, but he ran into the house so fast he forgot to shut the mailbox lid.

“They’re coming… here?! What the hell is going on?!” Atticus frantically shouted, while stumbling up the stairs to the attic.

Jonah and Skylar looked at each other, then back at Atticus, and back at each once again, wondering what to do; Jonah said calmly, “Atticus, please calm down. There is something you need to know about this house…”

Atticus was baffled as looked up, “well, what is it?!” he had asked, impatiently.

“Maybe you should tell him, Skylar..” Jonah said, uncertainly.

“Well you see, Atticus, this house isn’t your average house.. This house has malice inside it, like no other. This house is the dwelling of Séances and hauntings—“

“This is the house of what?!” Atticus shouted out, as he was ripping off his coat.  

“Everyone believes this residence is empty right now, since your parents died, and nobody ever found your body, nor ever sees you. This is where many séances had happened back far before you moved in, and this house is possibly sitting upon hundreds of bodies..”

Atticus looked up at the two brothers, and back down at the bench he was sitting on; he got up, unlocked the lid of it, and saw inside “Surreal Salem Séances” faintly inscribed in the wood.

He slammed the lid down and locked it back, falling to his knees in the floor, praying that this was all a dream… he had blacked out from getting so worked up about it, and when he came to, he couldn’t find Jonah or Skylar. He looked out the window to see if they had gone outside, but what he found was something much more.

A vast sign was placed along the rickety fence-post, advertising the Surreal Salem Séances; Atticus was furious. He ran downstairs and there stood Jonah and Skylar with three other spirits he had never seen before. He had heard Jonah talking to him through telepathy, saying “go back upstairs, quietly, so they don’t notice you. Now!”

He did what he was told, and sat there, waiting, wondering what was going on… hours went by, and then come Jonah and Skylar up the stairs; Atticus could tell something wasn’t right.

The two brothers stared blankly at each other, with a faint look of concern in their facial expressions, but no other emotions were present. “Are you guys alright?” Atticus asked worriedly.

Jonah then turned to Atticus and said to him,

“It’s too late.”

Atticus had a disturbed look upon his face, confused with the way they were portraying themselves and their emotions, “What do you mean?” he had asked with a quiver in his voice.

Skylar came over to Atticus and sat down beside him, giving him the daily newspaper.

“What is this for?”

“Read the year, Atticus..”

The year read 1966.

“Atticus, we didn’t pick this house, it somewhat picked us. You know how many people have died in this house? Over hundreds; hundreds of poor innocent souls died because of this single house. Atticus, you died in this house over a century ago.. Today is June 6, 1666., claimed Jonah, as he and Skylar walked down the stairs.


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poetry, short stories

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Submission Details: Literary Work submitted by Brianna Wagnon from United States on 01-Feb-2013 08:35 (Last edited on 09-Feb-2013 12:19).
The Copyright work has been viewed 1133 times (since 22 Nov 2010).

Brianna Wagnon Contact Details: Email: briannuhhundead@gmail.com Phone: 7065088100



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