Posted by: DIYwriting | October 11, 2022

The Smell of Decay

The smell of decay was strong as soon as I stepped onto the porch. I hadn’t visited the house in weeks because I hadn’t wanted to confront the man who was living there unannounced. I had hoped he would leave after the last time I came by and threatened him, but the smell didn’t seem like it. The house was my parents’ home – the one they had lived in since they had gotten married thirty-four years beforehand and since their disappearance three months ago, I was trying to figure out what to do. The police didn’t seem to have any updates and the man living in the house told everyone he had gotten permission from my parents to live there while they were gone. 

No one had yet to discover what ‘gone’ meant and I was suspicious that the police weren’t doing more than they were. They said the uninvited guest had an alibi for the night my parents supposedly disappeared, but wouldn’t confirm whether or not they thought my parents were dead. I was wondering if the police and the man in my parents’ house knew something I didn’t or if he was paying them off to live in such a comfortable house? Maybe there was something more sinister going on. I knew I needed to get in and snoop around the house today and get as much information as I could. I needed to know where my parents were and what had happened. But the smell was so overpowering, I wasn’t sure of how I was going to be able to stay inside for a long period of time. 

I pulled a scarf out of my purse and unlocked the door. I took a deep breath and headed inside to face the worst. The kitchen seemed to be where the stink was coming from so I slowly headed there first. I almost screamed when I saw my parents sitting at the table, smiling crookedly. At first glance, they looked dead, but I don’t remember anything after they jumped up and screamed ‘HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!’ 


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