Epilogue

The Snedekers did leave the house on Meridian and never went back. In fact, merely driving close by made their skin crawl and their palms sweat.

They moved to another house in another Connecticut town, where they went about the slow process of recovering from their ordeal. They still live in Connecticut as of this writing.

And, as of this writing, the white, two-level Colonial still stands on Meridian, as does the twisted, dancing, corpselike tree in the front yard. Tenants have come and gone since the Snedekers left and the house is currently occupied.

Not long after leaving, the Snedekers heard whispers about the new tenants having some strange experiences in the house. They heard that the new tenants were asking questions about the previous occupants, curious to learn if they knew anything about what was happening there.

Carmen felt sorry for them. She feared for them...prayed for them. One evening, she timidly suggested to Al that they contact the occupants of their former house and try to help them.

Al turned to her suddenly and lost some of the color in his face as his eyes widened.

"Are you kidding?" he asked, barely able to speak in a whisper. "I...I don't even want to talk to anybody who lives in that house, not even over the phone. If...well, if they don't like it there, they'll leave."

"But what if they're like us?" Carmen asked. "What if they can't? What if they don't have any choice?"

He looked away from her and turned to the television. "Then...we'll just have to pray for them, I guess."

But Al was right. The new occupants of the house did leave.

They were, however, followed by another family...

...and another...

...and still another...