Ghost in the House (Allegory)

Sent: Thursday, November 26, 2015 at 7:24 AM
Subject: Ghost in the House (Allegory)

She slept there every night, but now it horrified her. After all of her effort, she may have to give up and go to another house, but she didn’t want to. What did it say about her if she did?
Maybe I should tell you more about the back story?
She had seen the house of her dreams on line. So perfectly structured, so gentile in it’s image and manner, her friends would be envious. Yes she would.
So she contacted the broker and wrote letters back and forth to him and the now offsite owners. She got more and more excited by the house. She prayed every night that she would get this house.
She had lived in other houses, so she had no clue why this one was driving her imagination as it was. But oh it was.
The broker kept reminding her that the house wasn’t perfect and had a dark history she should be aware of. But she didn’t care. She should, but nothing got thru to her. She wanted this house. All her senses begged for this house. So she went forward.
The day came when she finally got a tour of the house. She was so excited she could hardly breathe. She changed her outfit several times. She called and chatted with several friends about the house and her impending visit. They tried warning her away, but she said they didn’t know the house like she did.
They asked her about the history. What about the fires? Was she not worried that there was an electrical problem that caused them? Or perhaps there were vandals in the neighbourhood who kept setting the fires? Pyromaniacs rarely went out of their territories after all. And they were known to be hard to catch. What if she burned to death and they had tried to warn her but she wouldn’t listen. Some of them threatened to not visit if she bought the house. She would be sad to see them go, but nobody ran her life, but her. They said they couldn’t bear to watch her wreck her life. If she bought the house, they no longer wanted to be her friend. She deleted them off her directory. Who did they think they were, the control freaks?? The knuckle chewers… She could go on and on with the names she was calling them. But it came down to her not needing a saviour or a parent. She was a grown assed woman and would do as she willed. Damn the torpedoes.
She was asked about the basement that kept flooding, and if she wasn’t worried about damp. They had heard that people got sick and died from forms of mold after all. But she said she would ask for an air quality report before she purchased it. That did calm them down some…Though it also got her a bit worried. Where fire didn’t really. It was a house that had stood for some good years, so she figured she would be ok. Though intellectually she knew all it took was one fire to die. It was a solid house, made of stone. Perfect lines and such a sturdy place to lay her head.
She heard about the basement of doom, where people had once been jailed and flogged. Wasn’t she worried about such a negative space? Not really. No one was forcing her to stay in the basement after all. It’s not like she had done anything wrong. In fact she thought it would make a cool story to tell visitors and maybe even her grandkids one day. Every older house had a history. She thought it was sexy and romantic.
She heard from the realtor that she would have to replace the H-Vac system. Not a big deal to her. The price of having an old house was that work would have to be done and she had good trade contacts and a few bucks she could spend, since the price was lower than she expected.
She was asked about the fact that the house was so isolated. What if she needed help? What if she got sick of the commute? Did she truly expect them to visit her? She said she had extra bedrooms and they could have fabulous house parties that ran for days. And no neighbours to complain about the noise. They countered with no neighbours to have over for tea, or bbq. Wouldn’t she be lonely? No she was looking forward to the peace and quiet. She grew up in the country after all. She liked birds and crickets singing her to sleep and waking her up. No intrusions. Anyone who visited would be someone who asked or was invited. No drop by visits was paradise to her.
She was asked if the title was clear and if she had planned on all the inspections. Of course!! This actually hurt her feelings. Did they think she was an idiot?? She was a woman, not a girl anymore.
What about insurance? Did she check to see what kind of coverage she could get since the house had such a negative history? They had heard some houses were challenges to get covered cuzz of that. She said she had checked with the current policy holders and they were happy to transfer it to a new owner. And they could discuss any further items she wanted on the policy. They breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah that was a good thing.
She was asked why she didn’t buy new? Older houses had to be renovated and didn’t have certificates of warranty like a new one did. A new one she could design any way she wanted. It would be en vogue. Why would she pick such a money pit when she was so young? Did she know how to fix anything or would she always be shelling out for all the repairs an older house needed. She said she had mad skills and was looking forward to applying them to her own house. That was part of the thrill for her.
Finally she screamed at her friends, I wasn’t asking you for your opinion or to be talked out of it. I was asking for you to know how much this means to me and support me dammit!! Each time the phone slammed down by her or them, she deleted their names off her contact list.
Her dad gently asked her if she could ask for a honeymoon period before the deed was in her name and said he was just worried about his baby. She started to cry and begged him not to make her dream a fight between them. He backed off and said I love you baby, you know where I am. She tearfully hung up on him.
The tour went without a hitch and she was thrilled with every nook and cranny, even about the old foliage. Though she might have to buy a weed wacker, she signed the papers. She gave herself a hug since no one was there with her today. It was a bittersweet moment for her. It was her dream. Why did she have to enjoy this alone. Oh well she would make a new support system, now she had the house.
She moved into the house and the first weeks were so warm and she thrived as she explored the house.
Ir was when the deed was formally transferred that the first ghost appeared. She tried talking to it and befriending it. But it stayed in it’s tracks and never acknowledged her. Several ghosts appeared but it’s not like they bothered her, so she left them alone and they ran their tracks. She didn’t scare easily.
All was well. Romantic and seductive. She grew comfortable and went about the repairs on the house with such good cheer. She had her house and it was becoming habitable. She giggled with new friends about her track bots as she called them. Never changing their routine, even if they had to pretend there was a wall or door where she had made a change.
Till one night, a shadow man came to her in her dreams and said she was his to do with as he pleased. And in the dream, he beat, raped and murdered her. She woke up screaming. She called her daddy and he offered to come get her. But by that time she had calmed down. It was just a dream after all. Wasn’t it?
Mostly it was the track bots, and though they hadn’t changed, she was now wary of them. Weeks went by without a dream, so she relaxed again.
It was like that was a calling card to the shadow man. He re-entered her dreams. Each time she thought he was gone, he came back. Until she was convinced he was staying. He owned her feelings and fears. He came more often to reinforce that POV. Until she saw more of him than her track bots.
What would you think if every night something in your dream did such things and the way to stop it all was to give up your dream?…
Until she couldn’t take it any more, so she called a priest. She called a medium. Nobody got rid of him. It just made him angrier and more violent with her. She woke up with scratches and bruises all over. She thought she was going insane. So she fled to her daddy’s arms.
But it seemed like she had hooked the shadow man. He followed her…
She broke down with a friend and all the friend said was I told you so. She hung her head and regretted ever saying a thing. Somehow that was worse than the dreams. She never saw that friend again.
She went back to the house in shame.
Every night she went to sleep (barely) petrified that he would visit again. And he often did.
She was terrified. Soon she broke down and told him ok you own me, and all he did was grin.
It was her dream, her house and she had let him into her life. No matter how often friends had tried to warn her.So she would just have to live with it.
Till one night, she got the matches and gas out and set the flame. Barely escaped with her life and the clothes on her back. At the final moment, she turned around and went back in. She went down with the house.
Her hell was that even though she no longer had her corporal frame or her dream house, she spent what felt like eternity getting beaten, raped and murdered by the shadow man. Over and over again…
But wait!! Finally she understood the whole thing. She knew just the thing!!
The next time he came, she was ready for him. She turned the tables, took back her power and came onto him instead. He started to back away but there was no having this. She tied him to the bed and did his crimes to him. As he took his last breath as a shadow man, he looked at her with pain, fear and shame in his eyes and she smiled at him.
Her life, her soul, her hell was stronger cuzz she had faced the worst and knew she could still win.
The roof of hell was lifted and hosannah was sung thru hell’s domain. She was gathered into protective arms and rose thru the fires and became an angel of strength and character. She was prized as the best of the guardians.
Cuzz in her heart she knew the pain, her best maddest skills were for dreamers and battered women. She taught them how to be the best of survivors.
And in her corner of the fields Elysian, she built her dream house. Here it had no track bots or men of shadow. She could breathe again.

–based on the larger story of Dante’s trilogy but done femdom. —

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