That Witch Bitch

2000 flashback

Before you could summon any words to address the strange occasion of having to tell a ghost that you knew him whilst he was (barely) alive, you are hit with another wave of Nostalgia.

One that you remembered fully, but never thought of its relevance.

It was the night before halloween.

Devil's night as they would call it at the Cortez.

Even though the new year had long since passed, the buzz of the new millennium filled the air, making the atmosphere never seem boring.

Everyone was coming out with new trends and fashion, it was a cool time era.

It was also long since your bedtime.

You lay on your bed, tongue stuck out as you scribbled on your notepad.

Your childlike eyes wondered away from your drawing and towards a figure that had somehow appeared in your peripheral vision.

Your mum stood in the doorframe outside your room, she shook her head and smiled.

"Y/n! I thought I told you to sleep!"

"No actually! You told me to go to bed. Those are two very different things."

Wow.

Six year old you had some sass.

You smiled back at your mother as she moved herself towards you and sat on your bed beside you.

"What are you drawing?" She asks, she looked tired but still had enough energy to generate enthusiasm for her daughter.

You stare at the paper you had drawn on.

"It's the boy next door." You say, pointing at the stick figure you had drew in the window of the house you'd filled the page with.

"Murder House?" Your mother asks, reeling back in surprise. Her kind expression was slowly fading from her face.

"Yeah." You say, voice swelling with pride that your drawing was recognisable.

"When did you see the boy?" She asks, knowing fully well that Tate Langdon had been killed before your memories had fully developed.

"Five minutes ago?" You reply unsurely, confused at her serious tone.

"Y/n." She says solemnly, "We need to get out of here."

"Why?" You say, tugging lightly at her clothes as she attempted to get up, "I like it here!"

At the sad expression on your face, she knew she couldn't tell you the truth.

"Oh." She says, she was good at lying and knew that you'd believe whatever she said, "It was a job offer, I didn't want to tell you til morning but I guess you know now, sorry I let it slip."

Your childish face widens into a smile, you were smart enough to know how much your mum needed the job but dumb enough to believe her lie.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

Your mum strode out the room, slamming the door behind her.

As soon as her footsteps faded, you peered over at your window that gave a perfect view of the Murder House.

And there you saw him.

The boy.

Waving.

He was standing at the middle window, just how you'd drawn him.

His sandy blonde hair scruffy and his smile was a dull attempt to cover the pain that was eating him up from the inside.

With the smile you had just shared, you knew you had to wave back.

And you did.