Jack was a boy who knew what he wanted.  He wanted to go in the house that was haunted.  He’d heard the stories of ghosts in the attic.  And was afraid that without adventure his life had become rather static.  His parents had warned him about that house from a young age.  They said: ‘A war on your soul, that house will wage.’  But Jack as he was, being young and naïve.  His parents, Jack, did not want to believe.  Of course he thought he knew what was best.  And he planned to live his life to the fullest, and forget the rest.

So one time in the middle of the night, he managed to overcome his fears and sidestep his fright.  He crossed the lawn in front of his house, being sure to make no more sound than a mouse.  He reached the stoop of the house that was haunted, and realized that adventure was what he had wanted.  He opened the wooden front door with a creak, and realized that his dull future was no longer looking so bleak.  He took a step inside the large cobwebbed foyer, and no longer wanted to follow his father’s advice becoming a lawyer.  He wanted to go out and discover many a new thing, and realize all the joy that adventure can bring.

Up the old wooden staircase he walked, in pursuit of something he could not see, he stalked.  He reached the top of the rickety, worn-down stairs.  And suddenly, he found a world without cares.  Breathing in deep he looked around the space, with a mixture of fear and anticipation on his face.  He took a few steps forward and the floorboards groaned; inside his body, his soul had moaned.

So excited to be on an adventure, his soul found a joy his heart could not measure.  As he walked forward down the hall, he could hear something giving his first name a call: “Jaaack.  Jaaack.”  The voice sounded ominous and light, as if it were weak and trying with might.  It sounded as if it were coming from above him.  His attention, the voice, was trying to win.

So a way to the attic, he was now trying to find.  The potential consequences to his actions, he did not seem to mind.  A drawstring in the ceiling he found, that pulled on a plank, and a staircase came down.  Up the narrow steps he went, and right then the ghost was sent.  Far into the depths of Jack’s soul, so that when it came out, it left only a hole.  Jack could barely feel what had just been done, but he knew deep inside him, that the devil had won.

Jack went back to the world feeling a void, and forever feeling just slightly annoyed.  For now he knew he had done something he shouldn’t, but resist the temptation, he just couldn’t.  For the rest of his life he rued the day, he descended into the evil he thought was okay.  He fell into a life he thought he could miss, but he failed to listen to his screaming moral compass.

He’d gone on to have children and married a wife, but a void he still carried for the rest of his life.  Occasionally he’d forget the void was still there, but even when he didn’t, his soul felt so bare.  So he’ll tell you this story if you give him some drink, and it will always make you stop, wonder and think: “Where have I gone where I should not have?  What have I tried to reach, strangle and grab?  Where have I left pieces of my soul?  Where have I become much less than whole?  At what place had I become lost?  Where have I stopped to finally pay the cost?  For my past actions in life will always catch up.  And at some point I must learn to stop.  Stop doing the things I know that I shouldn’t.  Even though I’d thought for sure that I couldn’t.”  Because your moral compass will not lead you astray, and only you, can truly find your way.


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