Shiver (on hold)

Prologue

            It was an old house. Perched right on top of a hill, secluded from everything around it. I've never seen anyone go to or from the house. Which led me to believe that it has been deserted for quite some time. 

I had to walk passed this creepy little house on the hill everyday to get to school. Well, to go anywhere really. The only way to get out of my neighborhood was to pass this same house. It gave me the the heeby jeeby's. I always feel like there is something watching me from inside the house.

I've always been too afraid to even look over there for too long, because I have the slightest feeling that I'm going to see something that I possibly wont ever forget. And, I'd rather try to avoid situations like that.

You see the thing is, my mother is ghost enthusiast. Anything to do with spirits and the other life and exorcists and pretty much everything supernatural, she's all for it. She dedicates herself to find out about these things. Maybe that's why I'm such a coward.

My mother used to always tell me stories of supernatural things when I was young, because she hoped I would be like her one day  and have the same interest as she did when she was a young. But I don't. That's probably why she doesn't pay much attention to me. Because i'm not like her, but like my dad. But to be honest, I think she's kind of crazy.

Nonetheless, I am afraid of everything supernatural. And superstitions creep me out too. I believe in some just because I don't want to not believe in them and whatever the superstitions says will happen, happens. 

Black cats, I run away from. Crows, I walk the other direction. That's why I always do my best to avoid looking over at that house. But it's as if it's tempting me to look over there. Just one glance. And I know there is probably some kind of lurking spirit in that house waiting for me to look over for a second too long so it can get me in a trance to bring me in it's house so it can gobble me up.

But not today,sir. I usually have a hat or something with me, to cover the side of my face that's toward the house, so I'm not tempted to see it out the corner of my eye. 

That's my everyday routine pretty much, except for today, because I forgot my hat at home. Aigoo.

I make my way down the sidewalk, past the trees and bushes. The shrubs turn into a rusting iron gate as I near the hill, with the house. The wind is blowing slightly and whistling through the leaves in the trees. I can see the moon, loaning in the sky. Not a star in sight. 

Ssssaaaaggeeee...

I stop, and look around. I can feel my heart picking up pace in my chest. Why the hell are the trees talking to me. I begin walking again, my feet moving faster than before. I'm almost passed the property when;

Ssssaaaaggeeee...  

I stop walking and turn around. The trees dance in the evening breeze. Not a soul in sight. "Who's there?" I yell into the wind. 

No answer.

"I know you're there, and I have pepper spray. So, d-don't mess with me, okay." 

My voice is hoarse like I just woke up and there is a welling in my throat. I turn around once again, to begin about my business. Before I'm even able to take a step, something is thrown over my head and I am impaired of my vision. I scream, and I wail, louder than I ever have before. Hands are wrapped around my torso and my ankles, I begin kicking to get loose, but it doesn't work. I'm lugged somewhere, and placed on what feels to be grass. Frantically, I squirm around and take the paper bag off my head, but my hands are taken away from my face and placed on the ground. I feel a weight come down onto my pelvic. My eyes hectically search around in the dark of the bag, trying to see if there is any hope of my finding out what the hell is going on. Who is doing this. 

I hear whispered voices over my head. My throat hurts, and there is hardly any sound coming from my voice box. I am crying so hard, my eyes feel like they could explode in my head at any minute. Hands are placed on my waist and roam down my thighs and back up again to my rib cage. The thought of someone taking advantage of me, came to mind. And I cried even more thinking of this happening. 

"Please." I cry, "Don't, please. Stop." My head is shaking while I'm crying and trying to talk. My words come out strained and muffled. I can barely understand what I'm saying. I start kicking and thrashing my body, trying to get away. The grasp on my hands is tighter now, I'm paralyzed. Another pair of hands grab onto my ankles. I feel nails sink into the flesh and I let out a whimper. I begin to feel light headed. My vision, although pretty messed up right now, start to give out. I feel the same hands from before hover over my breast, and grab them. I'm weak, and helpless. I'm praying that I could just die right now so it could all be over. So I don't have to feel the shame I'm feeling right now. 

My eyes start to shut down as the bag is raised off my head slightly, and I faintly see a hand with what looks to be the material of a shirt, in its grasp. The cloth is placed over my mouth. The scent is strong. Acidic. I feel as if i'm going underwater, drowning, suffocating. I try holding my breathe, but it's no use. I let the fumes over whelm me, take over my body. Until everything goes pitch black. 

a/n: hey people so I wanted to write a mystery kind of story I guess. This is the first chapter or prologue if you may. I think it's going to be good. And also sorry if it's kind of mixed up, and unexpected, I want to keep the reader guessing what's going to happen next. i kind of just made things up as i went along and... whoop, there it is. 

also, isn't Francisco Lachowski just an amazing human being. yeah, i think so too. 

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