Fading Out

Chapter 1

Daisy’s POV

It’s so quiet. The moon is so alone in the dark sky. Just like me. I just wish someone would come. Or something would happen. It’s been so long that they all went away. Maybe I should too.

A creaking of the wooden floor in the entrance hall breaks me out of my gloomy thoughts and I immediately feel myself prepare for yet another intrusion. These people should just learn their lesson and leave me alone. Why do they keep coming to disturb me and disrespect someone else’s property? Before a living human can blink, I move from the attic above the second floor of the house to the entrance hall, hiding among the curtains. I wouldn’t have chosen to hide, being a ghost and all that, but with my almost hundred years of being a ghost, I have almost lost control over my form. And I would rather not scare this intruder away… just yet.

From between the red velvety curtains, which are now covered with dust and spider webs, I peek carefully at the intruder. A teenager. He seems about the age I was when I died. And his height is about six feet, two inches taller than me. From my angle of view though, I can only see his brown hair. I look around to see if there is a girl around as well. Today’s teenagers think that people abandoned haunted houses just for them to have a place to make out, and more. I had seen a lot, not to the level of becoming a pervert though, and scared them away as soon as they let their guard down. This time, though, there doesn’t seem to be a girl around. Turn around. Show me your face.

It is as if my words compel him and he turns in my direction. The first thought in my mind is that he looks so scared that even the sound of wood creaking beneath his feet might make him wet his pants. No, I remind myself, not pants. Jeans. After that I notice how his aqua blue eyes dart around the place in fear, looking for something, probably me. His eyes pass over my hiding spot and I feel a bit of affection of how nice he looks. The thought is accompanied with a frown and mental shake. This un-ladylike behaviour isn’t fitting of a lady, even though this lady has been dead for a century. Besides, he has nothing on my George.

After a few more minutes of staring around for a sign of my presence, he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. With the help of the advanced ability of hearing, I now focus on his heartbeat, which is still beating quite erratically. I am tempted to just come out and make him run but these silly pranks are not how I was raised. Death is not an excuse to forget manners. Still I doubt him making through the hour with me.

Of course the resolve to be a well-mannered lady flies out the window when I notice a half-burned candle near the entrance, which is just in edge of sight of the mortal boy. With one wave of hand, I burn the wick of the candle of a flame several feet long and feel like a kid again when the mortal yelps and runs away from the door and the now-extinguished candle while clutching his chest as if to stop his heart from escaping. In my defence, I never really was a true lady. I loved pranks. Which ultimately brought to this point of my existence.

The thought is sobering and becoming serious once again, I look at the mortal boy once again. He is panting in fear as he still looks around the place for a sighting. All the while, he leans against a long couch covered with a white cloth. For one small second, a part of me, though small, desires to raise the white cloth in the shape of a ghost. Logic penetrates and I stop for no reason other than to not give him a heart attack.

After gathering courage, which takes several long minutes, he begins to walk towards the stairs for the sleeping quarters of the owners on the first floor of the ruins. It is a pathetic reason but the only reason I don’t pull off another prank and speed him up from snail’s pace is that the wooden stairs are old and probably decaying. Caution is a good thing to have against this place. Being a ghost, even I couldn’t save this place from the ill-effects of time and disgusting insects. I want him scared, not dead.