It was cold. Usually I can begin a story with much more explanation that just plainly it was cold but for some odd reason that fits the story quite well.I can't tell you what happened on December 2nd, 2010 because I was not there. However, what I can tell you is that I witnessed every event through her memories. So, violent and so stirring as if wrapped in a movement; no, a motion that can not be put into detail by mere words.
These memories, these violent memories seem to have lasted for so long but yet, in the real world they only lasted but mere seconds. Full visions of what seemed to be a normal day but I shall simply start with her morning. Before I begin tho, I just want you to know that this is the truth of her beauty and of her life and of her last minutes here on earth... This is the Violet Memories Of Emmery
I lay asleep on the couch as the cool breezy air from outside rushed through the landscaped walls and down through my body. I lay sprawled out on my leather couch fast asleep from all the previous drinking I did the night before. You see, last year my wife and I were in a terrible car accident and the only time I get to be with her, even for a few seconds, is when I dream. Her sweet voice echoing through my ear as if heard from a cavern with trickling water and off was a distant sound as if angels were singing hymns that only I was able to hear.
Such a moment was not meant to last as well all know the adage for I was awoken by a doorbell and not just any doorbell but a repetitive one. I awoke from my drowsy state and flopped to the floor. I stumbled to get up as I used the table for leverage, then the couch and then the floor again. Finally on my feet I stumble to the door and look through the hole. It was a strangely dressed man with a mustache and suit but not any kind of suit, no, it was the kind of suit that lawyers wear.
I ignored the subtle entrance he tried to impose on me through a door. "Mr. Bubkise, I know your in there!" he said as I slide down the door ever so quickly to try and avoid any sounds the floor boards or peepers through my windows might make. "Just so you know Mr. Bubkise, this is the final time I will stop by but the next time it will be someone else and they will be here for the house.","I did try to help do remember that."
I heard the fading of clicking coming from his shoes and then an engine followed by a screeching off into the distance. This house wasn't worth keeping and wasn't worth fighting for. I mean who would want a house where all their is is bad memories but I assure you the good out weighs the bad. I lay sinked in a prostrate position on the floor, the cold ground brushing against my skin... I never felt so cold. A couple hours later I awoke to find that it was snowing outside and the unfortunate decision to leave my windows unlatched from their hooks as they slid down from the ice building up around them.
I sit up and wrap my robe around my body, the cold air stuck to me like a life like freezer. My limbs numb with pain and my head pounding like snare drums, it even hurts to even think about it. A walk to the window and try to close it and after much force and freezing wind pounding my face I was able to but as I closed it I could hear faint sounds coming from upstairs as if I had a visitor walking along the floor boards. Steadily and stealthy I proceeded upstairs followed by a whiffle bat that was placed along the wall against the kitchen just for an occasion like this.
It wasn't easy trying to be stealthy against an intruder when your house is so old. Each step I took made a creaking sound followed by a moaning sound and then followed by a rusty nail. So many reasons why this house has bad memories was because I was such a bad repair man but it doesn't mean I didn't try. As I slid myself against the walls I felt that they were unnaturally warm as if someone behind them was lighting a fire or a nice toasty oven but it wasn't something that I could worry about now. I counted my way up the stairs to be sure not to trip and fall as I was not watching them but for the intruder lurking in my upstairs.
When I got about three fourths of the way up I could hear a slam followed by a rapid run through my hallways. The sound kept getting closer and closer and it trailed down both flight of stairs and down to the level where I was at. It was very close and I steadied my bat grasping it in my hands as the sound turned the corner leading directly to the above step and I lunged forward yelling but...nothing was there. The sounds stopped and it was quite but not my heart for it was beating faster than the footsteps I heard not but a moment ago.

I couldn't let this awkward feeling of psychosis go. Was I really losing my mind? I would be reassured that I when I found that I was not alone in this house.
To be continued...