Weekly-ish challenge #21 - Haunted, cursed, or just really fancy?

V

Vay

Guest
Hey guys!

Well I've been away for a month and so has the person I asked to cover for me so you've had the same weekly challenge for over 4 weeks.... Time to change that!

The premise of the weekly challenge is simple: Just take the theme you're given and write a post-length entry. It can be a fanfic, and alternative reality to a roleplay you're in, or just something you've just made up right now. The only limit is your creativity (and ow much effort you put in) so really go wild!

This week's challenge: House on the hill.
 
The house on the hill was lavish, and in it lived an old man. I had always said that one day I would live in that grand structure. That I would work hard and when that man passed, I would buy that place, so that me and the family I raised would be happy, and never have to want. So every day I worked, labors of intelligence and fortitude. Work of every kind. Slaved away for cash, putting everything I had into it. Life isn't that simple though. Money can buy a lavish house but no family. That is something only love can buy. I've worked hard my whole life, and now I stand in a lavish house, on the top of a hill empty and alone. Though I am still young, I won't be for long, and so I became the old man in the house on the hill.
 
Alone it sits, a house, on a hill.
Be it haunted? Fancy? Lavish? Cursed?
Could the former owners have moved away in a hearse?
Down went the probes, searching the bowels of the earth.
"Enough!" Cried the farmers, they've lost their last hearth!
Foolish little boys and girls, the corporations won't stop for you.
Gain is to be had in the land, too.
Hills rest atop a mountain of black gold!
"In due time they will see, we'll be rich tenfold!"
Jostled and tumbled, toppled and turned-
"Ka-Boom!" went the house! Now what have we learned?
Lovely black gold, who can resist?
Money's to be had! No cease and desist.
Not a thought put to the minority who suffer for this.
Over is the tale of the house on the hill.
Poor farmers, change can't be resisted by power of will!
Queer how things change, it makes me ill.
Rammed into the land, man-made mosquitoes.
Sucking away the Earth's blood, parasites that won't go!
There is no longer a house, no longer a hill.
Under the visage of businessmen planning their next kill.
Voraciously ripping a sanctuary apart.
Why is it that greed can rust a man's heart?
Alone it sat, a house, on a hill.
If we don't protect it, nobody will.
 
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