This reminds me of a good old-fashion haunted house. When I was a kid, I used to run everywhere, chasing after my brother (or being chased by him) and exploring World War Two ruins. I remember running to one, eerily like this one, and one sight of the damned house, I fled in terror. That was decades ago, and I could not help myself but repeat the same act. But to safeguard by pride, I quickly walked away.
Zashnain
An avid blogger, twitterer and photojournalist, Zashnain Zainal suffers from an incurable addiction to social work, helping marginalised communities since 1989. Nowadays he travels from the plantations of Malaysia to the slums of Thailand. He can be found at zashnain.com and @bedlamfury
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