The spooky villa of my aunt

She was looking out of the running car thinking about the last time she went to his aunt’s house for the holidays. It was the summer break of grade seven, she was supposed to stay there due to her parents being on vacation. She was so fond of her aunt’s family as they were all kind-hearted and welcoming. Their house is a typical villa in an industrial island in south of the country. It’s a worn-out house surrounded by average sized trees. To get to the parking space, the vehicle must pass through a pathway lined by greeneries. To strangers’ eyes the site of the house might seem gruesome. However, to my morbid taste everything about it was absolutely fascinating. After the death of my aunt’s friend who amicably lived with her for thirty-six years, there has been a rumor going on that she had casted a spell on the whole family and had jinxed each member along with every corner of the house that she has lived in for approximately forty years. They used to say they heard an indistinctible babble coming from the house whenever the house was empty. Despite my aunt dispelling all of the rumors, the superstitious neighborhood was petrified of their villa. They looked at the members as omens. Knowing the rumors, I eagerly looked forward to being all alone in their house so they would feel comfortable and show me hints of their existence. I was taking an afternoon nap that I had a dread illustrating a mountain of women surging on top of each other while trying to reach the rumbling sky with their other hand. The women were clamoring in disdain. Their desecrated life was passing by their bloodcurdling scream. It seemed like they were struggling to cut the cord their entire life span and yet their will was decimated. I woke up by the sound of the door creak. There was a blue light coming from the main living room. There she was, standing peacefully in her supernatural aura whispering to herself poems of freedom.