Grey, Black, And White

Spider Walls

  It is a cloudy Sunday afternoon in the town of Lords. Where the trees grow tall and the spirits of the damned roar free. A black Maserati car, followed by a cargo van, drives up a dirt pathway leading to an old mansion that seemed to be vacated for years. At least from what I can remember, that house was passed down through generations. The roofs tinted with moss on its cracks and vines grew stuck on the white stained walls. Such charming architecture I say, and the home décor extravagant and elaborate enough to welcome anyone with an exquisite taste such as mine. I know those walls as if they were the palm of my hand because in fact, I've been there myself.
"This is a lot bigger than I pictured it." A tall woman with auburn hair and burgundy lips walks out of the driver's side of the car. "Better start unpacking, we've got a lot to do in this house."
The men from the cargo van start to take boxes inside the house while she guides them inside. Then a boy and a girl step out of the car both looking up at the dusty windows, both quite unsure whether this is the right house they were about to live in for quite a long period of time. The boy had such a vague look in his eyes, they did match his dark brown hair although they were lighter than the girl's. She had such a gloomy face, which I admired from a far. She walks closer to the entrance but she cannot forget to consider those tall trees around it, she did seem to love nature after all. After living in a city so crowded and chaotic, who wouldn't want to get away for a while? Or forever. I know I would.
"Evan, come help me and the guys with these boxes will ya? I didn't think this house would already be furnished." The tall woman lights up her cigarette standing by the arched, wooden door.
"You need to stop smoking, Isadora" The dark eyed girl with her long raven hair tucked in her beige turtleneck said as she turns back to the entrance.
"Oh hush Blair! Go get the rest of your stuff inside and make yourself useful."
"You know how many people suffer from lung cancer because of smoking?"
"I don't ca-"
"You're gonna die, Isadora." Blair hums as she walks inside.
Evan, holding a small box, possibly a 'memories' box, walks towards the entrance. "She's right, you know."
As they advance inside, they are welcomed with quite a less modern view than what they were used to back in the city. Though the walls were homes for spiders and termites, it did have a pleasant vibe to it and one that would last for years to come. I remember the Victorian furnace and wallpaper, where the dark hard-wood floors had a pine aroma. They could get used to it, especially Blair. Her room was on the second floor and far to end of the hall. She admired the detailed wallpaper and white antique rustic furniture that lightened the whole room. There was a small space in front of the window that had inspired her to place her art canvases and supplies. It was perfect since she had found peace in art over the years.
Through that window, there is a placid view of the outdoor garden and another mansion behind the brick walls that divide and separate both grounds. It also seemed empty, with no one to pluck out its weeds nor to water its plants. It didn't matter much to Blair since she was still in awe with her new home. She walks down to Isadora's new studio where the walls were filled with old books facing her desk that was illuminated with daylight through the large glass windows.
"Way to go Isadora, you brought us to Dracula's home." Blair says sarcastically.
"I didn't have a choice due to your inconsiderate actions back in the city, besides, this home was passed down through generations for your father, and may he rest in peace. You will start looking for a job by tomorrow, I don't want you staying inside for too long anymore."
"It could be haunted." Blair teases.
"Oh that's absurd." Isadora responds.
After the tragic death of Blair's parents, Isadora, a former psychologist, became their legal guardian and had all access to their father's testament. She was barely of age to be in such a responsibility, and I'm not talking about the bank accounts, I mean children in general. She had a bit of a temper when it came to Blair's remarks but she still loved her niece and nephew more than anything. At least, aside from money, tobacco, and vodka.
"I barely know the place, how will I find a job if I can barely find my way back to my own bed?!"
"I couldn't agree more, which is why I will take you myself first thing in the morning." Isadora says while drinking a glass of red wine, sitting on the large maroon leather chair.
"No need, I can take care of myself." Blair responds, thinking that maybe Isadora was right. Blair could no longer be isolated. She had to avoid getting depressed and anxious more than she already was, so she grabbed her brown coat and satchel and went out for a long walk to the town.
She did enjoy long walks. It helped her evaluate her thoughts and her life. It also helped her think of places to go to whenever she decided to act like a child; and by that I mean, being the little rebel she is. Though aside from all that, she enjoyed the cold breeze and the natural energy from the long pine trees and dark soil. She arrives at the town square, where people love to pass the time drinking a nice hot chocolate and shop for valuable antiques. She admired its old European architecture, very charming but very cold though the restaurants and shops were warm.
There, a few feet away from the park is a fountain in the middle near the best coffee shop in Lords. It is the best because my own expertise in coffee senses decides that it is the best. She walks towards the entrance but as soon as she is about to pull the handle, a tall man with a dark trench coat instantly gaits out. Both glare at each other for a second and she sees a slight glow in his silver grey eyes that were barely identified since he walked out in such a hurry. She stood there for a moment hoping to see him walk away but unfortunately he was already gone as if she had just seen a ghost.
Trying to disregard that aimless event, she enters the shop where a barista with an olive printed bandana that held his dark brown dreads awaits.
"Welcome! Would you like to try our hazelnut latte-"
"I'll take a mocha with a ham and cheese croissant, to go please." Blair responds straight away with a soft smile.
"Very well." He chuckles. "Hey, didn't you just move in that old mansion by the hill?"
Blair raises her pitchy eyebrows, "How do you know that?"
"It's not that big of a town, people talk, and I won't lie, that house has had some scary reputation..."
"What kind of reputation?"
-"Ghosts!" a gully feminine voice insinuates from one of the tables behind Blair. A girl with light green eyes, wearing a long charcoal Dirndl skirt grins as she folds down half of the newspaper that had been covering her presence the whole time.
"Oh that's absurd." Blair says, intentionally remarking her aunt's reaction earlier.
"It's true, and much more than just ghosts. They say that many lost souls are trapped inside by the spirit of a baneful woman who used to live there. Her name was Anastasia Vandergraaf. All who lived in that house were relatives that practiced dark magic. Some say her spirit still wanders around looking for someone to possess..." She looks into Blair's eyes with a deadpan stare. And then changes her mood instantly. "But I don't wanna scare ya! They're probably just legends." She smiles in full confidence showing her small gap in her front teeth.
Blair tries to not show her fear, knowing that those relatives are her relatives that they were speaking of.
"Greer, I think you already scared her." The barista laughs handing Blair her order.
Blair takes her order, "Nah, ghosts don't scare me. I've seen scarier things than ghosts." She brags.
The barista leans closer to the counter. "Like what?"
"My aunt's wrath when I hide her cigarettes."
They both laugh. Seems like they had found her to be enjoyable.
-"Floyd!" a voice calls out to the barista, possibly a coworker that was expecting some help.
"Well, looks like I've been slacking. Gonna go see what's up. It's very nice to meet you Miss Blair!" in a hurry he runs to the back.
Blair thinks for a moment to herself, she never mentioned her name. She then turns to Greer, who just gave her a slight smirk. Did they know her? Was the town really just talking or was it just an excuse to hide his real motives? She did feel a little afraid, or better yet, paranoid. Everyone she ever met turned out to be more than what they appeared to be. She exits the shop without a goodbye. It was getting late and she still hadn't finished unpacking. She had to start walking now since it was a long way back to the hill.
I watched her as she strolled down in the neighborhood where the houses were close together. I too, following her steps up on the roofs. She arrived home until dark, already finishing her last bite of her croissant. A new day awaits. But for now, she must close her eyes, and dream for tomorrow.