Musicians x2 (editing)

2. Haunted House

The house we are staying in is huge. It reminds me of why we came here; which was because my dad went on 'How To Be A Millionaire'. He won a quarter of a million pounds, which was enough to convince him to sell his house, move to New York with his family, and pursue his dream of becoming a famous surgeon here. I saw it as fate, I'd pursue my own dream of becoming a professional guitarist.

Anyway, my bedroom was as big as our old living room and it had a personal bathroom attached, which was as big as my old bedroom and the walk-in wardrobe was as big as my old bathroom. No, I'm just kidding there. I have a big room but not that huge, the wardrobe is average sized (and not walk-in), the bathroom is big enough for a toilet, a sink, a bath and a shower but there isn't much space for anything else. The thing I love about my room is the balcony. Okay, so it's a small balcony with not much of a view (except maybe our pool and very green garden - something else I love), but it was still perfect for going out, getting fresh air and playing my guitar.

I also love the small armchair in the corner which looks very comfortable. The room is plain white, but I like it. After dropping my bags in my room, I go outside with my guitar by my side. I sit in one of those pool-side chairs and begin strumming one of my favourite songs.

"Don't stop believing, hold on to that feeling. Street lights, people."

"So, you're the new neighbours?" I heard a voice and looked around. But there was no one.

So what I did next was a completely rational thing, I threw my head back and yelled at the top of my lungs, "Muuuuummmm! We have to go back to England, this house is haunted!"

"Ooooh, I'm a ghost, huh?! The same voice said, chuckling.

"Where are you? D-don't hurt me!" I threatened, looking around cautiously.

"Stop being paranoid, I'm up here." I looked up at the sky.

"God?"

"Are you serious?" More chuckling. "Look a little lower."

I dropped my gaze and screamed my lungs out. "It's a boy!"

"Yes, it's a boy." He said, shaking his head and laughing at my freak out.

.

"Are you real?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"I have phasmophobia," I replied, finally catching my breath. "What're you doing up there?" He was seated on our garden wall.

"I will answer that when you tell me what psmopiophobia is."

"It's phasmophobia smart ass, and it's the fear of ghosts."

"Firstly, I hate it when girls swear. Secondly, you're afraid of something that doesn't exist?"

"Firstly," I said in a squeaky voice intended to annoy him. "It was not swearing I called you a donkey. Besides, why would I care what you like and don't? Secondly, ghosts do exist and I developed this fear when I encountered one. Now, I'm extremely sensitive and, as you put it, paranoid."

"Sounds stupid to me."

"I didn't ask you what it sounds to you." I huffed, getting seriously annoyed.

"Anyway, you like playing guitar?"

"No, my parents force me as a punishment," could I get anymore sarcastic. "That's why I had a smile on my face." Yup, apparently I can.

"Sounds like an awesome punishment to me," he said, pretending not to get my sarcasm.

"Who are you and why are you on my garden wall?"

"Where are my manners, did I not introduce myself to the fair, British maiden? Well, I do apologise milady, I am Princess Dianna."

"That is the worst British accent I have ever heard." I commented. Looks like he knows sarcasm too. "But seriously, who are you and why are you there?"

"I'm Cyprus, I live across the street," he pointed. "When I was a kid, my girlfriend Jenny and I used to climb this wall and play games in that there house. No one has lived in it for years. Even now, we sometimes still do, but not much. So I was just walking home when I hear singing and Jenny's terrible at that so I decided to investigate."

"Well, you're no more a kid and this house isn't abandoned anymore so you cannot just go climbing the wall when you want to it is not public property."

"You sound like my mum," he rolled his eyes.

"You sound like my twin."

"Ooh, another pretty girl?" He questioned.

"It's a twin brother!" I say, trying to ignore the fact that he called me pretty. Speaking of Lewis, said brother walks out of the house.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" I ask Cyprus and he just shrugs.

"Heard you screaming, Drey, is everything alright?" Lewis asks, not seeing Cyprus.

"Seriously, you come, like, twenty minutes after I was screaming I would have been a goner by now," I fold my arms.

"I was playing a game, didn't want to lose."

"I have such a caring family." I said dryly.

"Hello, forgotten me already?" Cyprus calls out.

"Yes." I say, grabbing my guitar and walking inside the house, Lewis following without any questions about Cyprus.

"Honey, can you not put that guitar down for one minute and do something productive with your life? Most teens your age have jobs." Mum was loading the dishwasher and the minute she saw me, began nagging as always. I rolled my eyes.

"Let me help you with that."

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