Chapter One - The Start of A Nightmare
People think I'm weird.
And no, I'm not some girl who picks her boogers and eats it not-so-discreetly in class. When I mean weird, I mean those type of people who loves the paranormal side.
Because of that, I'm currently a member of the social pariah in school. I don't know who the other members are, but a meeting is long overdue.
That's right, I love horror and because of that, people were frightened of me, that I might unleash some cursed ritual. Everyone scurries when I get close and some say that my gaze bestows misfortune--to which no one bats an eye at me.
Rumours are supposed to be just--well, rumours. Then again, people will believe what they want to believe. It had gotten worst to the point I'm the so called 'witch girl' of Class Two.
"Avery, why don't you invite your friends?" my mother asked across the kitchen counter. She was humming an unknown yet lovely tune whilst she fried the tempura for breakfast.
I stared by the window with an empty gaze, then I rest my hand under my chin and mumbled. "I don't have friends. Did you forgot about that?"
"How about you ask Lance? I'm pretty sure you both get along pretty well," my mother suggests.
Lance Martin is the kid across the street---which I unfortunately, babysit. Don't get the wrong idea; he's not some toddler or some stupid kid that picks its nose and flings it at your direction. He's twelve, and rather a kid with a sassy tongue.
He's the smartest of his class---which he quote-on-quote is "filled with monkeys." I generally don't like him because one, I don't like children and two, because he's insufferable with that blunt tongue of his.
Well, our relationship is complicated. It's love and hate, really.
"I'm not on babysit duty," I murmured, less enthusiastic as the day goes on with nothing eventful happening. I'm so bored that I might as well count the amount of leaves on our front porch.
The delicious aroma of fried tempura enters my nostrils and I get entranced with it's savoury smell. I hear my stomach grumble in hunger, then my mother suddenly pipes up too happily. "I forgot to tell you."
She grabs the plate of tempura and rice, then placed it on top of the dining table. I stood up from my seat near the window and followed, taking a seat across my mother. She smiles and hands me the platter of rice.
"A family is going to move next door."
I furrowed my brows in confusion, then took the platter of rice and scooped up enough for me. "Why would anyone live there? I thought it was going to be demolished?"
My mother takes a tempura, then continues. "The old owner decided to sell it; apparently, the husband of the family moving in, had just gotten promoted and transferred here---not to mention their child's school is closer."
"So they have a child," I say to no one in particular.
We said our prayer before meals and dined in. I take a scrumptious bite and my mouth waters with the crispy yet tender shrimp tempura in my mouth.
