Status: active.
Shadows
Livings.
She couldn’t have been older than nine. Her hair was the color of wheat, thin and soft. It curled around her face angelically; framing her delicate face and making it look younger than it already was. Her eyes were big, round and bright blue, shining with the curiosity of any young child. In her hands was a doll that looked just like her, except its lashes were longer and its cheeks were permanently pink. The girl’s, however, would never be pink again.
She was sitting at a window seat, her legs curled underneath her as she watched through the window. Her doll sat in her lap, watching the window as well, never blinking. The glass was slightly warped, seeing as the house had been there since the beginning of the 1900’s. She sighed with boredom, slowly rising from the window seat.
“Molly, I think we should go find something to do, what do you think?” The girl asked her doll, a smile spreading over her lips. The doll smiled mysteriously, and the girl nodded, hearing the words that no one else did.
“You’re right. Come on.” She held the doll by the hand, walking out of the room.
Her name was Anna Harrison, and she was dead. She had been dead for about 100 years now, and had always lived in the house. She had never been able to leave, but it hadn’t bothered her. She was happy to stay and play forever in her darling little home.
The other residents of the house were not so happy with being stuck. One in particular was a young lady by the name of Aubrey Rose. Aubrey had been a beautiful girl in her life, beauty gracing her all through her 19 years of living, but her face was now marred by burns. She hated the house and wished she could leave. She preferred to stay in her attic, sulking, but she would always come out to talk to Anna.
Anna moved silently past the stairs that led to Aubrey’s attic. There was a large bang from the attic, and Anna knew Aubrey was in one of her “moods”. That’s what James called them, and Anna knew to avoid Aubrey if she was in one of the “moods”. She would always be extremely angry, and things would be broken.
James was the oldest person in this house, although he had been in it the shortest. He had been killed near the house, and had been drawn to it. He stayed by choice, not wanting to know if he would go to heaven or hell. He didn’t mind spending time with the girls in the house, he considered them the daughters he never got to have.
Anna walked into the room James usually sat in, smiling brightly when she saw his thin form.
“James!” She chirped, and he smiled, holding up a finger to his lips. She nodded, clapping a hand over her mouth to show she would stay quiet. There was a sound of cars parking, horns honking to ensure the doors were locked, and loud chattering noises mixed with laughter.
“Livings.” James said quietly, and Anna’s eyes widened. It had been years since living people, or livings, as the ghosts called them, had come to the house. Anna flew to James, hiding behind him.
“I don’t like them.” She said quietly, fear in every part of her voice. James nodded. He understood her fear of the livings. They were loud, destructive, and annoying.
“We’ll just have to get rid of them.”
She was sitting at a window seat, her legs curled underneath her as she watched through the window. Her doll sat in her lap, watching the window as well, never blinking. The glass was slightly warped, seeing as the house had been there since the beginning of the 1900’s. She sighed with boredom, slowly rising from the window seat.
“Molly, I think we should go find something to do, what do you think?” The girl asked her doll, a smile spreading over her lips. The doll smiled mysteriously, and the girl nodded, hearing the words that no one else did.
“You’re right. Come on.” She held the doll by the hand, walking out of the room.
Her name was Anna Harrison, and she was dead. She had been dead for about 100 years now, and had always lived in the house. She had never been able to leave, but it hadn’t bothered her. She was happy to stay and play forever in her darling little home.
The other residents of the house were not so happy with being stuck. One in particular was a young lady by the name of Aubrey Rose. Aubrey had been a beautiful girl in her life, beauty gracing her all through her 19 years of living, but her face was now marred by burns. She hated the house and wished she could leave. She preferred to stay in her attic, sulking, but she would always come out to talk to Anna.
Anna moved silently past the stairs that led to Aubrey’s attic. There was a large bang from the attic, and Anna knew Aubrey was in one of her “moods”. That’s what James called them, and Anna knew to avoid Aubrey if she was in one of the “moods”. She would always be extremely angry, and things would be broken.
James was the oldest person in this house, although he had been in it the shortest. He had been killed near the house, and had been drawn to it. He stayed by choice, not wanting to know if he would go to heaven or hell. He didn’t mind spending time with the girls in the house, he considered them the daughters he never got to have.
Anna walked into the room James usually sat in, smiling brightly when she saw his thin form.
“James!” She chirped, and he smiled, holding up a finger to his lips. She nodded, clapping a hand over her mouth to show she would stay quiet. There was a sound of cars parking, horns honking to ensure the doors were locked, and loud chattering noises mixed with laughter.
“Livings.” James said quietly, and Anna’s eyes widened. It had been years since living people, or livings, as the ghosts called them, had come to the house. Anna flew to James, hiding behind him.
“I don’t like them.” She said quietly, fear in every part of her voice. James nodded. He understood her fear of the livings. They were loud, destructive, and annoying.
“We’ll just have to get rid of them.”
♠ ♠ ♠
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