The Haunting

Chapter 6-open house

A couple days later, my mom comes into my bedroom and wakes me up early. On a Saturday! "Chloe! Rise and shine sweetheart! It's a big and exciting day today!" She sings as she casually strolls into my bedroom and whips open the curtains I groan and shield my eyes from the harsh light with my purple comforter.

My mom harrumphs and grabs the edge of my comforter, wipping it off my bed, revealing me curled up in my red snowman pj's I don't budge. She can't expect it to be THAT easy, can she? Nooooooooo. Why? Because it's me, doi. I open my eyes just millimeters to peek at her, her frown mysteriously turning into a smirk. WTF? Why was she smirking? Uh oh, she must have another one of those crazed plans of hers that she always uses against me and only me. Literally. She then clears her throat and looks down at me.

"Chloe Angela Davies! Get out of bed THIS INSTANT! And I mean it!" She screamed in this extremely aggravating, make-your-ears-bleed high pitched, whiny voice.

I jump up into a sitting position, my face scrunching up in pain, my palms desperately trying to block it out, only half succeeding as her high pitched, whiny voice scraps my brain. My mom laughs, her mouth twisting up into an evil smile yet her are eyes remain happy and cheery. I scowl at her. She finally leaves the room after meeting my death glare with her laughing eyes.

I swing my legs over the edge of my bed and gasp as the morning coldness zips from the floor to the balls of my feet. I pull them back up and swing upside down to look under my bed for my slippers. I grab them and slip them on before rolling off my bed and stumbling sleepily through the hall and into the kitchen, where my dad was putting his breakfast dishes in the dishwasher.

He looks up as I enter the room and looks even more rushed and worried when he sees me still in my pj's and slippers while he is already dressed in slightly faded blue older-guy jeans and a beige older-guy polo shirt, his hair already washed and styled.

"Chloe, why are you not dressed yet????? We have to be at the house in HALF AN HOUR!!!!!!!!!" He tells me, his voice rising with every word.

"House?" I mumble through my sleep-induced stupor.

"Yes, house!!!! Aunt D's old house!?!? Our new house!?!?!" He seems to be pushed to his limit. Whoops.

"Sorry, Dad." I mumble, looking at my feet.

His face softens marginally. "Just hurry so we're not too late, okay?"

I nod and whip open the pantry and grab a bagel, stuffing it in my mouth and running back to my room to get dressed. What do you wear when your going to a tour of your dead aunt's creepy empty house?? A question I have yet to answer.

To solve it quick and easy, I grabbed a pair of stone-washed flare jeans. As for my shirt, I threw on a pink tank top and my favorite black v-neck over top. Fashionable, yet casual. Perfect.

Having finished my bagel, I run into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. Then, I quickly ran a comb through my hair, pulling it up into a low ponytail. I rush out of the bathroom and pulled my black flats on, rushing out the door and into the car, arriving slightly out of breath. The moment my door slams shut and my seat belt clicks into place, my dad has the car started and at the end of driveway, waiting for an opening.

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We pull up in front of the house, the real estate agent's car already in the driveway. Great. I hate our real estate agent. She's one of those, always perky/cheeky, annoying, nosy, pushy, squeaky-voiced person. She makes me want to scream. I step out of the car and almost slam the door shut. Darn, I'm already irritated just knowing she's here. I take a slow, deep breath to calm myself. I vow to remain calm, no matter how annoying she is.