My neighborhood was always quite the boring one. The days seemed to inch by; nothing to see, nothing to do. Not a significant sight for miles. However, there was once an old, abandoned building which lay right across the street. I always wondered what had happened inside, to be in this depressing state. The curious fellow I am, I decided to investigate. Remember, curiosity killed the cat.
I went across the street and, to my surprise, the door opened willingly. An eerie silence loomed. Cobwebs were scattered about. The putrid smell of rot and decay permeated the air. The floor was missing several boards. Even the walls were covered in mold. Looking back, I wonder why I stayed. I really wish that I hadn't.
I walked into the bedroom, to find a pitch black mattress. A cabinet sat next to it, and a dusty picture frame was placed on top. The portrait was in black and white. The man in this portrait seemed to be distinguished and well disciplined. He wore a suit and tie, and his smile was non-existent.
As I walked back to the foyer, a single ray of light caught my gaze. I followed upstairs to finally reach the attic. There I saw a portrait of the same man, but it was completely different. It was brightly colored, and his feeling seemed to pass on to me. It is then that the light found its way to my eye. I turned my head, and I saw it. A window.
As I looked through it, a warm feeling flowed through my veins. The beautiful scenery captivated me, bringing me to tears. I guess some would call it a window to heaven. It overjoyed me at first, and I was regretful to leave it. I left for a while, but I came back. It beckoned to me. I tried to open it, but, it would not budge. I looked all over for a lock,but there was none in sight. I found a hammer on the ground, and without wondering why it was there, I tried smashing the glass. Nothing. It taunted me, this window. It was mocking me, laughing at my attempts of breaking through. It was then when it struck me, why this house had been abandoned. It haunted me, this great temptation. Almost to the brink of insanity. However, I pulled through. I left the house and went straight back home, never to speak of it again. Some would call it a window to heaven; I would call it a window to hell.