Aunt Lorraine has a party every summer that she calls the “deck party.” Every year it’s the same: she’s leaning over the fence in a green tank top and a Sam Adams, telling us about her latest bad date or the neighbor’s lost cat.
No one ever goes inside, though.
Not once in all these years.
If you need to go to the bathroom?“Sweetheart, go back to your place.”
Do you want more drinks? “Stay put, I’ll grab them.”
In the event of a storm, she will cover the grill with a blanket before she even opens the door.
It was something we would talk about. Her place was known as the “Mystery Shack.”
Up until summer of last year.
Things changed after that.
It began like any other party on a deck. The yard had an orange glow because the sun was just beginning to go down. Aunt Lorraine was where she always is, sharing a crazy story about a bad date where the guy set his pants on fire by accident at the restaurant. As everyone laughed and clinked their beers, the night’s usual rhythm began to play out.
But as the night went on, something didn’t feel right. Some of us were beginning to feel the effects of the drinks, and the night was going on longer than normal. I was sitting on the edge of the deck, listening to Aunt Lorraine talk and trying to understand what she was saying, but I had the sudden thought that the air had changed.
I took a quick look at the glass door behind her. The door no one ever opened.
That wasn’t the first time I had seen it. I had seen Aunt Lorraine lock the door in a strange, sneaky way. She would always make sure that the door between the house and the deck was locked, even when people came and went for drinks or snacks. There must have been something inside that she didn’t want anyone to see.
I just couldn’t help myself this time. It was getting too much for me to handle. It was only a house, right? It had to be nothing—just a room or closet full of junk. But why did she never let anyone in?
I got up because I had made up my mind. I was going to be away for a minute. It was only a quick look.
I moved slowly toward the folding door so as not to draw attention to myself. Aunt Lorraine was laughing in the background, but I didn’t pay attention to it as I reached for the handle.
I was shocked at how easy it was to open the door. There are no creaks or locks to mess with. It opened with hardly any noise, and I stood there looking into the dark room for a moment. The cool air from inside the house blew over me. It smelled a little like wood polish and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
As I walked inside, I kept my steps light. There was a soft click as the door shut behind me. I stood in the dark hallway, not knowing what to do next. It was very quiet, and the shadows in the corners of the room looked like heavy curtains.
After that, I saw something.
As you walked down the hall, to the left, there was an old wooden door that didn’t seem to belong in this house. The rest of the house was nice and clean. There were pictures on the walls and plants in pots by the windows. But this door… it looked very old. Dark. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years.
I couldn’t hold back.
My heart was beating a little faster as I walked toward it. What was that door hiding? Why did Aunt Lorraine always keep it shut?
I pulled on the handle.
It didn’t move.
I tried again, this time with a little more force, but the door was locked. My shoulders were tense, and I could feel my breath getting faster. It didn’t seem right. Why would Aunt Lorraine lock her own door? What could be the reason for it?
After that, I heard a noise. Steps.
I went cold.
My heart was in my throat as I quickly turned around. But no one was there.
There was only the quiet hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the soft talk of the party on the deck outside.
I felt better, but I was still nervous, so I chose to leave. Maybe I thought I heard footsteps. It’s possible that I was too upset about nothing. I turned to walk back toward the sliding door, though, and heard it again. This time it was closer.
I wasn’t by myself.
It was a low, soft voice that asked, “Why are you in here?”
I got cold again.
It wasn’t Aunt Lorraine’s voice.
I quickly turned around and saw a person standing in the room’s opening. There was a man there, but I didn’t know him. At the temples, his hair was turning gray, and his clothes looked like they were from the 1950s.
My mind was going crazy, so I took a step back. Who was this person? Why did he come here? What did he need?
The man didn’t say anything else. He did nothing but stand there and look at me with cold, faraway eyes. I got a chill up my spine.
“What are you?” My voice was barely above a whisper as I asked.
The man didn’t answer. He took another step into the room and kept his eyes on me the whole time. Then, right on time, Aunt Lorraine walked up behind him, her face hard.
“Is everything okay, honey?” Her voice was sharp as she asked.
My face was losing blood.
“Aunt Lorraine… “Who is he?” I spoke slowly.
Aunt Lorraine smiled tightly, but it was cold. “Oh, that’s my brother,” I said. You haven’t met him yet. We’ll have him stay with us for a while.
My thoughts were going fast. “Your brother?” “Your brother? I didn’t know that.”
For a split second, Aunt Lorraine’s smile broke. It was long enough for me to notice. Then she laughed, but it didn’t sound natural. “Well, I guess you can always surprise your family at any age?”
I did not understand what to say. The man did nothing but stand there and watch, but there was something off about him now. He didn’t blink at all. The way his lips didn’t move much when he talked. He seemed like he wasn’t even human.
Aunt Lorraine’s tone changed from playful to strict when she said, “Let’s go back to the party.” “That group is fun, and we don’t want to miss any of it.”
It hurt my throat to nod, and I turned to leave. But as I walked toward the door, I took one last look over my shoulder. The man’s eyes met mine, and they were cold and dead, like they could see right through me. I shook and ran back to the deck quickly.
The rest of the night was a blur. Aunt Lorraine was back to being herself and talking to everyone as if nothing had happened. I tried to forget what I had seen, but I couldn’t. The man in the hallway, the locked door, and the strange, disturbing vibe that filled the house kept coming back to my mind.
I didn’t find out the truth until weeks later.
Aunt Lorraine’s “brother” wasn’t really her brother. He was a man she had lived with for a long time before she met my uncle. She had locked him in that room for years to keep him a secret. Her mind and body were both sick, she told me, and she couldn’t let go of the past. She locked the truth away, both physically and figuratively, because it was too hard for her to face.
I found out that the man had died years ago, but Aunt Lorraine had never really let him go. That was the real twist. She stuck him in that room to remember him, even though he was dead.
It was an odd kind of sadness, one that had built up over time and turned into something much darker.
Aunt Lorraine had been carrying a heavy secret that she didn’t know how to share. After some time, she finally let go of the past. It hurt, but she opened that door, ready to face the truth.
What did you learn? The things we keep from other people, the things we hide in the deepest parts of our lives, are sometimes the very things that hold us back. It’s possible for the truth to set us free, even if it hurts.
Don’t wait too long to let go of a part of yourself or your past that you’ve kept hidden. You can always face it and move on. Help someone who might need it by telling them this story.