House

I remember a suffocating silence, the feeling of being watched. A candle was lit.
Cacophonous whispers amidst hushed phone calls. I snuck up the stairs to listen in, every single time. It never hurt any less to hear it. You watched the whole time, surrounding it, squeezing in, never coming close.
Firmly a house, but never a home.
Heads whipping around in the dark, a shadow I swore I saw. Double vision at the end of a long night. Eyes kept tightly shut, a body darted away from the crack in the door. Hastily cleaned up wounds, a TV playing static. Just lit enough for shadow.
Hiding in the depths, darting away at the sound of footsteps. No memory lasts longer than a glimpse. I wasn't sure what do to with him.
A failed seance, a successful summoning. Stayed downstairs. Thud. Thud. Slam. It never changed. Really? They’re doing this now?
You never cared. I think you liked it. Your walls absorbed every wail with enthusiastic fervour.
Curtains closed in the morning. Then at noon. Then at night. A constant battle for light. The screech of grommets against the rod. Fingers clacked on the keys. A candle fizzed out.