The Hill House Effect by Savannah Wagner

Whenever I think of my childhood, there will always be that place that my mind goes back to. One of those places is my grandparents’ old house by the church. Forever, it will be my oasis. A sweet escape. A picture perfect memory.

Many summers were spent there. Many sleepovers with my best friends were there. Many treasures still lay there. 

My friends and I describe it as The Hill House Effect. However, we aren’t haunted by ghosts at all. Just the opposite.

We are haunted with the deep sadness that we will never get those days back. We have kept alive the memories with pictures, stories and anecdotes. But the house has changed and the paint has peeled. New people live there and I don’t think it smells like coffee and bacon in the mornings anymore. There is no pool in the backyards surrounded by mint trees.

There are no deer statues that we once used as home base for hide-n-seek games. No singing robotic fish. No creepy family portraits staring back at me as I fall asleep on the floor in their living room.

They moved. We grew up. But the spirit of it all still lingers and stays stuck to us. 

A comforting yet depressing shadow.