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The House on the Hill

The house was cold. A bitter crisp cold like the first haunting of a winter’s night. The hallways were silent as she glided through the shadows. Her fingers numbed as she dragged them along the walls.
As her fingertips crossed a glassy windowpane she glanced down at the world below.
She could see all of the villagers houses, like tiny black specks across the snowy hills.

She grimaced.

The elongated stairwell was the only bit of light left within the house. Candles flickered against the marble steps creating a milky glow towards the foyer.
Hesitantly she began to walk, each foot slowly progressing its way forward.
As she reached the second flight of stairs she grimaced. A single tear glided down her cheek as she continued to walk. Slipping on the dusty marble, she tossed herself forward as the candles blew out into smoke. Her body tumbled into the dark blackness below.

A young villager boy watched as the house on the hill’s light went off.
Peacefully, he closed his eyes. No longer afraid of the night.

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