"So, how are you liking the house?" Casey asked, taking a lick at her ice cream cone. It was hot today, with high humidity. Now that I was fairly comfortable with the town Casey had insisted on taking me for ice cream as a celebration. Today was also our seventh day living in the new house, if that means anything.
"It's all right. I guess I just need some more time adjusting." Casey nodded and went back to her ice cream. It was so odd. Whenever the house was mentioned she always acted differently. I just couldn't put my finger it?
I looked down at my cone. Thoughts swirled through my mind as I ate. New things had been uncovered, and I was itching to
spill everything. Turns out I hadn't been dreaming that first day. When I got back from school on Monday the house was back to being old and rotten. It hadn't gone away either at bed time. Then, when I woke up it was back to normal. It was just so mind-boggling. What was happening to me?! I've also concluded that this change is a regular thing. For seven days straight I've gone to school and it's normal, and then I come back and it's old again.
My parents and Anna are oblivious too. I know they could possibly be hiding it like I am, but I don't think that's the case. I know them well enough to know that they are ignorant about it. And, for the time being, that's how I intend to keep it. It's just best if they don't know. I looked back up at Casey. Our eyes met, and for some unknown reason I finally felt like I could trust her. Maybe it was this strange gut feeling. Maybe it's the fact that she's the only person who's bothered to talk to me this whole week. Maybe it's a combination.
"Casey," I began. "The house..." I stopped. How the heck was I supposed to explain this? 'Hey I think I'm crazy because I keep on having these weird illusion/vision things of my house.' No. Absolutely not. If I said that then I would be back to square one socially. Although... I actually hadn't moved that far anyways...
"There's something wrong with me. Or maybe it's the house, but please just listen and save your questions. Okay?" She nodded, and I began in a rushed whisper. "The first day we arrived, I thought we arrived at a run down shack that was way beyond repair. It was creepy, slightly scary, and appalling all at the same time. But I go to sleep that night and then wake up in a normal house. Completely up-to-date, modern. I was confused, and went to school feeling the same way. I thought for awhile that it was just my mind playing tricks before. But, naturally, I arrive home after school to find a shack again. It's been like this for the entire week. I go to school, it's normal. I come back, and it's old. And I haven't not noticed the way you act weird when we talk about the house. I want answers, Casey."
We both leaned back in our seats simultaneously. Casey was silent, studying me. Her sharp green eyes were conflicted, which seemed odd. I was the one who was supposed to be conflicted, not her.
"I'm guessing this is what's been on your mind?" I nodded. "And you think I think you're crazy." I waited a minute, really contemplating the question. Did I really think that?
"No. Because you have your own problems... and they somehow have to do with mine." Casey scowled.
"How do you do that?" she asked, leaning forward again.
"What?"
"Read people so easily? It's unsettling."
"Don't try to change the subject. Do you have my answers?" We continued to stare at each other. Finally Casey sighed.
"Yes. But not here." She stood abruptly, and I followed her out of the shop. I hopped on my bike while Casey grabbed her skateboard. "Just follow me," Casey called over her shoulder. We pedaled down the road on the shoulder for almost the entire trip. During the last three minutes or so we veered off onto a much more secluded road. At the end of it we stopped in front of an old house that looked abandoned. It actually looked a lot similar to my house when it was old.
"In here," Casey said, pushing the door open. The cracked windows let in streams of natural light, but only a little. The room was empty save two wooden chairs. "Take a seat." I did, and turned to Casey expectantly.
"Now my answers." Casey nodded and ran a hand through her hair.
"What if I told you that you're not hallucinating. That the things that happen to your house actually happen. That you are... special." I raised an eyebrow.
"That house has a history, and a dark one at that. Back in the early nineteen-twenties or so, a man named Andrew Pollux owned that house. He was rich, and had loads of servants and things like that. What people didn't know though was that he treated them terribly. Think of any punishment you can, he made it happen. The person he treated the worst though was his daughter. Andrew had divorced his wife, but once the wife died the daughter had to go and live with him. Andrew had never wanted a daughter. Have you happened to run into a room that has lots of dolls in it...?"
Anna's room flashed in my mind. I nodded, at a loss for words.
"That was her room. Anyways, things went on, and nobody told anyone about the harsh things that went on. Legend says they were sworn to secrecy. But one night the house was robbed, and Pollux killed for his money. The only person who was said to live? The daughter."
The silence was thick, and filled with tension.
"Wow..." I said. Casey nodded. "But I still have loads of questions. There's so much more that I need to know-"
"I think that's enough for today." Casey stood and patted my shoulder. "I'm honestly surprised you're taking it so well."
