Green Lit Mansion Moonlit Nightmare

Every window burns green but no one lives there, or maybe everyone does and they just stopped using doors, the trees outside have been dead since before the house was built which should be impossible but here we are, the moon is a thin slice of something that cut the sky open, and that red eye on the roof — that wasn't in the architect's plans, that showed up after the third family left, or was it the fourth, the clouds move but not with the wind, they move like they're trying to get somewhere else fast, somewhere this house isn't, and you keep scrolling but your thumb pauses because some part of you recognizes the shape of the front steps, you've seen them before, in a dream, in a photo you don't remember taking, in the reflection of a window on a train at 2 AM, and now it's on your phone, and every time you unlock it the green gets a little brighter, and the red eye gets a little closer to looking back.