only now, in the end...
He approached the dark house, after a short walk that seemed to take forever. It was large and worn, surrounded by trees and an eerie aura of unsureity. As he climbed the stairs leading to the door, he felt a chilling feeling of failure, as if his efforts were already in vain. He shook it off and quietly tapped on the dusty door, to be answered by nothing but silence. Looking around with a sigh, he knocked again, this time harder, but again to no avail. He stepped down from the porch, and took a long look at the house, as if to try and see inside its walls. All he saw was a tired old house, cold and dark. Walking around the house, he noticed a faint light up in a second story window. Perplexed by this, he ran back to the door again, empowered by a strong feeling of hope. Again, nothing.

As he returned to the lit window, he realized that it was the only window that was not boarded shut, and it seemed to be the only part of the house that was accessible. He began to climb the tree closest to the window, and ended up on a branch that seemed to be within its reach. He paused for a moment to gather himself, and noticed that a light rain had started. Questioning himself and his judgment, he reached out with all his strength, and got his hand to the ledge of the windowsill. With pride he began to pull himself up, but his fingers slipped and he let out a cry of pain as the old wood pierced his skin. As he felt the blood run down his arm, he tried to hold on, but it was futile. He fell to the ground. His head smashed against a tree stump and he lay half conscious on the wet ground. He tasted the salty mixture of blood and his tears in his mouth, and with his last ounce of strength he looked up, only to see the light in the window disappear.