The paint was frayed and the windows: shattered,

covered only by wooden boards. There was no way in.

But who would really want to go in, anyways?

It was the house no one dared to go near.

As I got closer, the sky seemed to get darker. 

The wind howled and the trees fought against the gusts. 

Branches flew into the sides of the home.

Then it appeared. There was a way in. 

A hole went right through the wall. 

It was just big enough for a person,

as if asking me to crawl through. 

I answered.

I crawled through because it was calling me. 

I crawled through because curiosity won.

I crawled through because it is only just a house.

At the end of the day, it really is just a house.