Fatally Sweet-A Paranormal Romance

Autumn Clover

I wasn't sure what to expect from a seemingly haunted house...but...

This place is oddly well-kept. I take a few careful steps into my new home. It's strange, a house so big, with two bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms going for so cheap...I guess people really are weird about paranormal activity and ghost stories. 

Looking around, I find that it's oddly well-kept and cozy. The living room has a nice TV with a very comfortable faux leather couch and a carpeted floor, the kitchen has a smart fridge on top of a good-quality oven and pantry, the stairs upstairs are wooden and beautifully carved, and the upstairs feels like a place I'd call home within a few seconds of being there. 

People are such cowards, but I don't mind a stellar-quality house like this being mine for such a steal of a price. 

My name is [Y/N], I'm a college student, 18 years old, nearly halfway to 19. I'm 5'4, Cisgender Female, Bisexual, and I'm hoping to become an author. 

I carefully take off my comfy autumn sweater, lifting it up over my head and shoulder-length auburn hair so as not to mess up the placement of my favorite hair clip, but in doing so, I accidentally knock my glasses out of place. 

I hate it when they get all smudged like that!

I sigh and set my sweater onto the banister, trying to temporarily clean my lenses on the lower part of my shirt before pushing my round glasses back into place. Once satisfied with the visibility I had of the stairs in front of me, I tuck some of my soft locks behind my ear and pick up my sweater.

I guess I should find my new room...but maybe it'd be nice to get to know my new home first. I quickly found a coat hanger in a nearby closet and carefully hung up my warm wool sweater, then I knelt down to untie my black high-top converse. 

I still don't know exactly why I got them, they're such a pain to put on...I guess they look good, though. 

I set my shoes down on the floor of the closet, the empty, lonely-looking closet. At least it won't be lonely for long. I sigh. I don't know why I keep dreaming like this. Ever since high school, I've wanted a relationship, but apparently, a love of classic literature isn't attractive. Well, at least not to anyone in my school that I found attractive. Besides, I can't have romance be a priority if I want to make it as a writer...and excel in college in these coming years.

I slowly wander from room to room in my warm, fluffy socks, taking in the cozy, welcoming atmosphere, the dust floating everywhere, and the odd feeling of loneliness wafting through the house. 

Eventually, I find the room I decide to call my own. It's got a window with a beautiful view of the nearby river, angled just perfectly so that the sunset would come through as perfectly as a professional painting. There's a perfect amount of space for my bed, bookshelf, desk, drawers...and I'd still have enough room for a few more things. I feel a satisfied soft smile tug at my lips as I plan for myself where I'll put all of my things when they come in later this week. 

I rush back downstairs and put my converse back on as fast as I can so that I may go back outside to gather the few boxes I managed to fit in my car as well as the sleeping bag I'd be spending the night in.