No one in Sight
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Warwick Hills golf club is usually bustling with bright colored, polo wearing men and women golfing, eating, and carrying on conversations. The clubÐ²Ð‚™s three ballrooms are filled with employees enjoying their companiesÐ²Ð‚™ outings, before staring the long and drawn-out meetings with a speaker who ironically has a monotone voice and dry sense of humor. The dark and antique furniture seems bright, and cozy with the sun shining through the large windows facing out to the beautifully green golf course. Everyone is very friendly, people going in and out, rushing around as though they have something important to do. As the evening approaches the members of the golf course thins out, weeding out the weak, and leaving the ones who stay until the end. It is always busy until the last member leaves and then we have the duty to shut down the club. During this time there is a certain darkness that lingers around every corner. The darkness of the club, in contrast to the sunny and cheerful attitude while the members were there, seems scary.
First of all, a scary aspect of the club is the smell of salmon patties, steak and potatoes, and day old coffee. These scents bring me back to earlier in the day when people were around each corner. While closing the dark, empty club, going from one end to another you expect to see someone pop around the corner, keeping you on your toes. Even accidentally bumping into a chair while walking through is terrifying. The noise is not only loud, but it is the only noise loud or quiet that resounds in the club, making it so that the touch of the chair sends a shiver down your spine. The feeling of the abandoned furniture and the scent of tonightÐ²Ð‚™s dinner and old coffee gives the impression of a ghost town that was abandoned for a reason unknown.
Not only is the smell of food scary, the sounds are also terrifying. The sounds of the empty club are just that, empty. The only thing audible are the sounds of my own footsteps, and an occasionally creak or crack from the heater turning on and off. When no other sounds are heard my mind often hears sounds that do not exist. These non-existent noises lead to imagination of things that go bump in the night. As I walk through to lock the two gargantuan dark oak doors, thoughts of thieves and murderers run through my mind, then my heart starts to race, chill run through my body, and paranoia kicks in. The scary atmosphere in Warwick after all the members