The House on the Hill

Thump! Scratch! Creak! I sit up in bed and gasp. I switch the lamp on beside my bed and flood the room with dim light. After putting my big black plastic framed glasses I can see that there is nothing in the room, no reason to be alarmed. I lie back against my pillows and pull my blanket up to my chest, focusing on calming my heart beat and breathing.

After going in to work the next day I run into some other people talking in the lobby. The Hayden boarding house I’ve been calling home now is located in the state of New York up on a big hill. Vines cover half the old building. A lot of people think it looks a little creepy but I actually kind of like it here. Sure we have a strange mix of people here but its home.

“How are you doing Seth?” Marissa Summers asks me. Her long straight blond hair is held back by a large flowered head band. She’s wearing a pair of faded bell bottom jeans and a floral print blouse. She’s a very hippie like woman. She’s also a librarian and single. She owns several cats which agitate my breathing so I tend to keep my distance from her even though she’s very nice.

“Good,” I answer.

“You look tired,” Violet Arnold comments. She’s a musician and really into the goth fashions.

“I woke up a few times last night. I kept hearing strange noises,” I inform her.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Marissa assures me. “Old houses always creak and crack.”

“Yeah,” I nod in agreement.

“What kind of noises were they?” A man steps forward.

I recognize him as the guy who moved in recently. He’s probably in his late twenties while I’m only in my early twenties. He has very short spiked blond hair, brown eyes, and is toned in all the right places without being bulky. I can tell he must work out and I hear he used to be a cop. I wonder why he quit… or was he fired? He’s actually really gorgeous but I’m pretty sure he’s straight.

“You know...bumps and creaks and bangs,” I shrug.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with the pipes in your room. Did you check those?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t know anything about that kind of stuff.”

“If you want I’ll come by later and check for you.”

“Sure,” I nod. “That would be great.”

I go to my rooms and take a hot shower. I breathe in the steam and let the water warm my chilly pale skin. After I dry off and dress in black skinny jeans, a blue tee shirt, and a pair of Vans. I put my glasses back on because my dark blue eyes are almost blind without them. I run a hand through my damp short mop of orange hair. Orange is unfortunately my natural hair color, just like my father and my older sister. I also share with my sister the freckles sprinkled across my cheeks and over the bridge of my nose. Unlike Cecile, I don’t really pull it off in a pretty way. Everyone always likes her but I usually just seem like a dork.

I go pick up some of the pictures and art supplies scattered around my living room. Shortly after, there’s a knock at the door. I answer it and let the guy in. “Thanks again for doing this,” I say to him.

“No problem.”

“What’s your name again?” I ask him curiously.

“Jacob Hart. Most people call me by my last name.”

“That’s cool. Is it because you were a cop?”

“Yeah,” he nods, crouching down in front of my kitchen sink to look at the pipes.

“I’m Seth Kade.”

“I know.”

“Okay…” I chew on my bottom lip nervously, watching him work. I’ve never been good at making new friends.

After a while he stands up. “Everything seems okay there.”

“Good. Do you umm…want a drink?”

“Do you have beer?” he asks.

“No,” I shake my head. “Sorry.”

“Aren’t you old enough to drink?” he asks me.

“I’m 23,” I tell him.

“Okay,” he shrugs.

“You?”

“What?”

“How old are you?”

He chuckles, a deep sexy sound that makes me blush. “I’m 28,” he informs me.

“Cool,” I get two glasses from the cabinet.

“Water’s fine,” he tells me.

I fill the glasses with water then hand one two him. We make our way towards the living room.

“Did you take all these?” he points at the various photographs around the room. Some are in frames, some are black and white, some are colored, and some are even vintage style Polaroids.

“Yes, they’re mine,” I nod.

“I don’t really know anything about art but I actually kind of like them,” he tells me.

“Thanks,” I smile.

A loud scream rings through the rooms suddenly. My heart stops for a second.

“You heard that, right?” I ask Hart.

“Yeah,” he nods then rushes out into the halls.

I hurry down the stairs into the lobby, worried that someone might be terribly injured. People start gathering in the lobby with me, half of them already dressed in robes and pajamas. Hart comes down the stairs after checking the house out. “Is someone hurt?” I ask him.

“No,” he shakes his head. “It doesn’t make sense. No one screamed and barely anyone even heard it except for us.”

“What?” I am shocked.

“Someone died here once,” Violet tells me quietly.

“Huh?”

“That’s what I heard anyway,” she shrugs.

“You’re going to scare the little queer,” Alfred James says. Alfred is our resident homophobe. I’m used to him by now so I just ignore his comments.

“I think I read something about it once in the library,” Marissa comments. “But I don’t remember what it said.”

“You guys are all spooked because it’s almost Halloween. There’s nothing going on. Nobody died here,” Alfred insists.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I agree. “Maybe it was someone’s television or something. If people died here I’m pretty sure we would have known by now.”

“I’m going to keep an eye out just to be safe,” Hart tells us.