The Wandering House

Everyone has that one house that sticks with them after they wake up. That one house they've seen a million times in their dreams or nightmares that they see in person. Seeing a tangible structure from outside of your psyche leaves many questions with few answers. Have I been in this house before? What is it doing here? Is it following me now? Do I need to move?

​This particular house has been driving my brother crazy. He has had dreams of it so much lately that he doesn't know when they started. He calls me at all hours of the night and day to tell me about his dream. He is always running. He always hiding. The orange lights from the windows scare him the most. They're unnatural.

Tonight's phone call was like all the rest. He woke up in a sweat, wrapped in his sheets. He asked me to come over because he couldn't be alone. Seeing someone I respected as much as I do him in such pain is heartbreaking. I was planning a day trip to the mountains in a week. I could easily take an early day trip tomorrow if I could coax him into coming.

When I arrived at his house, he looked sickly. I knew he hadn't been sleeping. He had been avoiding sleep until his body would just crash and force him to sleep. We sat on his sofa in silence while I waited for him to gather his words. I know he wanted to tell me what happened. He had to get it out or it would drive him crazier.

"You were there this time."

He looked over at me as I stared at him. This was the first time he had even mentioned someone else being in the dreams with him.

"You were there and you were trying to get me come inside."

I leaned away from him.

"You were inside the doorway and you were calling my name."

He broke down. He was desperate. He needed rest.

"Maybe we should get out of town for a while. Get a few people together and go someplace else."

He looked at me weirdly at the suggestion then nodded. It was too early in the morning for some people, but others were willing to take a road trip. Our close circle knew what was going on and offered support.

By 4 am, several of us were gathered at his house. We piled into my cousin's SUV and took off for Chimney Rock for a while. My brother slept peacefully surrounded by bated breath. We were on edge and waiting for him to thrash out. We made the trip in a little over 2 hours.

I stretched my back and groaned at new sore spots. Yet my brother slept. No one wanted to wake him from his peaceful slumber but we had to. One of his friends reached over and shook him lightly.

"Wakey-wakey!"

My brother woke up with a big yawn. He already looked better in the 8 am sunlight. He actually smiled until opened his eyes fully. All color washed from his face. He pointed behind me and stuttered so bad words wouldn't form.

We slowly turned around and looked behind us to see the orange lights coming from the windows of the house. We stopped at an old place that probably existed since the mines were built in the area. All we wanted was some gas from the pumps out front and to figure out what to do while we were there.

We got back in the SUV and just drove home. No one said a single word. My brother hasn't had trouble sleeping since that day though. I think the house found a new victim for now. I'm just glad it wasn't one of us.​