"No ghost was ever seen with two pairs of eyes"
~Thomas Carlyle~
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“Finally!” I groaned.
Rose and I had spent the next four hours after we had arrived unpacking. You can guess how much fun that was. NONE. Anyway, I was finally done, so I flopped back on my bed and layed there for a minute. Then I sat up and decided that I needed a drink. Four hours is much too long to be unpacking non-stop.
“HEY ROSE?!” I yelled, “HAVE YOU UNPACKED THE BOURBON YET??”
No answer.
“Ugh. I suppose I’ll have to go talk to her in person..” I mumbled.
I padded over to her room in my fluffy purple socks.
“Rose?” I questioned as I knocked on her door. She didn’t answer, so I decided to go about it my way. I backed up and kicked it open. I do infact realize that there is a thing called a door handle, but that’s for people with no imagination and weak legs. I walked in to find her listening to her iPod with the headphones on full blast, doing a full on, shockingly impressive air guitar. I just stood there for a full minute, until she finally noticed me and took her headphones out.
“Well haven’t you been productive.” I smirked. She looked away blushing.
“I got, uh, distracted..?” It came out more as a question.
“I’m sure you did. But did you unpack the scotch?”
She paused, and looked thoughtful for a second.
“Yes…?”
“You hesitated. You shouldn’t have to hesitate unless you know for sure. I’ll go do it myself.” I stated dramatically, flipping my hair, and walked out of the room and start down the hall.
“Don’t forget about me!” She called after me.
“You didn’t do anything! You don’t deserve it!” I called back at her, but I guess she didn’t care about what I said because she didn’t answer, and knew I would get her some anyway.
As I got to the last like, three steps, my legs decided that they were gonna rebel and stop functioning properly, resulting in me falling down the last three stairs and landing on my face.
My “Ouch.” was muffled by the floor, and I really couldn’t find it in me to get up again, so I did the next best thing. I dragged myself over to the packing boxes. Just as I was grunting and trying to get up so I could look through them, I heard footsteps behind me.
YOU ARE READING
Meet Me at the Boarding House
Teen FictionWhen 21 year olds Legacy and Roselynn moved into an old boarding house in California after dropping out of college, they were, well, they're excited. Then Sophie Tanner showed up. Sophie was a ghost. Something happened to her two centuries ago. They...
