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The House That Listens
horror◐ Teen5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
The held breath in the walls became a habit. Every night the house breathed when we spoke and went still when we didn't. Mara started talking less just to keep it quiet. Within a week she barely spoke at all, and I realized the house had trained her like a pet, one silence at a time.
I caught it before it was too late. I dragged Mara outside, sat her on the curb, and made her talk to me for an hour straight about anything, just to wake her voice back up. It worked. By sunrise she was arguing with me like normal, and we agreed: we sleep at a motel tonight. The house can hold its breath alone.
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