That's probably why The Haunting of Hill House is my favorite novel; it also doesn't hurt that I grew up in the following:
So I suppose I should explain that this isn't quite how the house looked when I lived there (from 1985-1992, and then 1995-1997; my folks were there until 2007), but it's not that far off either (though it was a bit more painted; also, the windows weren't quite so ... broken). But it always had that sort of brooding air, like something was watching you ... always watching.
I was a bit surprised to find this ... um ... garbage pit (?) that definitely did not exist during my tenure there; note that this is also a pit of bones! Bone-us! (Did I just say that? Yes, yes I did.)
This was the bedroom I shared with my brother until we were both 9 and 8, at which point we moved into the (significantly scarier) basement; I was so thrilled to finally have my own bedroom I didn't care about the ghosts (the shredding sounds in the middle of the night, the sound of someone pacing back and forth behind the headboard of my bed, the glowing green lights in the middle of the night; you know, the usual). When Ryan and I visited, we disturbed two birds that had become trapped in this room and were unable -- or, perhaps, unwilling -- to escape. Sing it with me now: BIRDS BIRDS BIRDS BIRDS BIRDS BIRDS BIRDS!
"Exorcism cannot alter the countenance of a house; Hill House would remain as it was until it was destroyed." -- The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson (1959)
