~Ghost Boy~

Chapter 2

Later that night, Tom lay in his sleeping bag, looking up at the ceiling. The bare lightbulb was on, making everything a shade of sickly yellow. While Tom was exploring, his grandfather had managed to get the power working again.

Tom sat up, looking around the room again. The reason he wanted to stay in this room was that he wanted to figure out why this room was, 1) clean, and 2) why it felt like something was telling him to get out. But he didn't want to turn off the light.

So instead of trying to sleep, he stood up and walked over to his suitcase, which he'd brought in a few hours earlier. He unzipped it, setting it open. He turned his back to it, pulling open one of the drawers in the dresser. For some reason, he hadn't thought to open it before. Inside were really organized clothes, and again, there wasn't a speck of dust on them. Another chill ran through Tom, but he shook it off and grabbed them all into his arms, picking them up to throw them on the mattress-

The clothes fell out of his arms.

Didn't he just open his suitcase? Now it was closed, and the zipper was quivering, as if someone had just gone to close it, but had stopped.

With a small gulp, he walked forwards and opened up his bag again. He grabbed his t-shirts, and set them on his bed. When he went to reach for his jeans, a pile of fabric flew at him, hitting him in the face.

The pile of T-shirts he'd just set down had flown off the bed and smacked him in the face.

"What the fUcK-" Tom said, taking a step back rather quickly as he watched the scene before him. His clothes were flying back into his bag, all on their own. Then, as a finishing touch, his bag slammed shut and the zipper zipped shut.

Tom felt his heart start to pound, and he suddenly fell on his face. He had been standing on one of the shirts he'd dropped before, and the thing that had picked up his clothes had yanked it from under his foot, and put it back in the drawer.

Tom turned around quickly, just as the drawer slammed shut.

He sat there, panting for a little bit before a scowl grew on his face. He's not gonna let whatever this was win. He stood up, opening his suitcase. He turned around, opening the drawer and grabbing the clothes, and throwing them across the room. He turned around, opening his suitcase again as he grabbed his shirts, and quickly moved to shove them in the drawer. Once he did, he slammed the drawer closed and said, "Hah! Take that you ghost-!"

That was a mistake.

The drawer flew out of the dresser, hitting Tom in the stomach and knocking him over backwards.

It went over to the window, and it shattered when the drawer hit the glass, and the drawer disappeared into the dark.

Tom let out a curse, getting up and quickly going over to the window, looking out. Squinting through the darkness, he saw the drawer on the ground far below, his shirts spread out around it.

He whipped around, stomping over to the pile of clothes on the floor. He scooped them into his arms, storming back over to the window, but there was someone standing there.

It was a boy, glaring at him. He had light brown hair that was shaped like horns. His eyes were a stormy grey, as if Tom was looking up at the clouds.

"Wha-"

"Get the fuck out of my room." the ghost growled, before he suddenly disappeared, leaving Tom breathless and honestly a bit nervous.

But Tom was too stubborn to listen to the ghost. So, he grabbed his bag, and his sleeping bag, and dragged them to the corner. He slipped into his sleeping bag, suitcase beside him.

He was going to stay up all night and make sure not to leave this room.