Ghost and Dude in the Funky House - Forever Unfinished

This Is All There Is :|

Heavy bags filled with books dropped onto the creaky wooden floor, their sound echoing throughout the hollow building. He had other things to put in his new home, but he wouldn't need them until later- the books, however, needed to be brought in immediately. University was a merciless master, and he already had four papers due by midnight, regardless of his impromptu move to the Shed- a house that everyone on campus claimed was haunted.

Freshman had tried to move in, then quickly regretted their decisions. Others didn't believe in the superstitions yet avoided it nonetheless. Oliver believed it- but then again, Oliver didn't much care whether or not a malicious spirit was there with him. He had enough things to worry about, and the occasional screams of a tortured soul were something he was willing to deal with- something he had dealt with. His family had been plagued by what people called a 'curse' as long as anyone still alive in the Rigby family could remember.

Tensely, he ran a hand through his hair and dragged his book bags into the kitchen. The Shed was an old house, but not as old as people claimed it was. His hopes were that the curse wouldn't follow him to the Shed, it would be left in the burnt crisps of his dorm, in the hurricane-ravaged ruins of his family home- but not in the haunted pile of splitting wood that he would inhabit soon. Maybe the hauntedness would cancel itself out.

Inside the Shed, everything was dusty, which made it smell a hundred years older than it was. The unpolished wooden floor was warped with water, and there were spots on the ceiling from similar water damages. It was one of the better housing options near campus.

It would take some cleaning to get it in a decent condition, though. He had a lot of work ahead of him- and he would spend this night doing none of it.

Oliver dragged his textbooks around, shuffling into the kitchen. The ancient fridge buzzed with activity... activity Oliver didn't necessarily want to be a part of. Yet he pulled open the foot-thick door and took note of the insides.

The yellowed light flickered, and a big black spider scuttled across the shelf. Frowning, Oliver closed the door and began to pace the kitchen.

Maybe moving here was a bad idea.

But what other option did he have? His roommates elsewhere had decided seemingly overnight that they would kick him out, claiming he had 'dangerous tendencies', which was an unfounded claim. Yes, their dorm had caught on fire twice, but they never found any evidence it was him. Oliver had taken care to make sure that they didn't.

Yet somehow he was removed from the premises with extreme prejudice, away from Blake, Drake, and John, and had been left in the bitter autumn rain on his own, with his threadbare suitcase and three bags of essential reading.

It was all part of the curse, Oliver knew, but he couldn't explain that to people or they would say he was insane.

'This isn't a movie, Oliver,' his friend in middle school had said, 'this is reality.'

As he lay like a board on the stiff, dusty bed with sheets like toilet paper and pillows like sand bags, Oliver began to think about the old dorm... it's furniture, most specifically. The way it didn't scream and groan when he sat down on it- the way his hands didn't come away black with dust when he touched a chair.

A single tear dripped onto his already tear-stained chemistry book.

"Ugh." He sat up and tossed his book aside. It landed with a 'thunk' on the pillow next to him, and he scowled, getting off of the accursed bed. "Stupid Shed."

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

Oliver froze. His chest contracted, and once he could move again, he whirled on his heels. No one else was supposed to be here. The Curse wasn't supposed to follow him, it was supposed to be gone now. Oliver's fingers moved to the protective bracelet on his wrist. "Hey... who said that?"