I stood there looking at the house, I didn't want to live here. "Why here?" I asked my Dad as he drug another suitcase up the drive. "It's beautiful. Why not here?" he asked. "It's called 'Murder house' for fucks sake. No one wants to live here" He sighed, "Stop Cynthia. This is where we're moving. Done" I took my bag from the car and walked into the house. I couldn't deny that it was a beautiful house. "Your rooms right up there" my Mom said as we both climbed the steps. "Joy" I said opening the door and going in. The afternoon sun light the room dimly through the dark blue curtains. I sat my bag on the bed and started unpacking. A bit later my Dad peeked in, "We're going to get dinner. Want to come?" I shook my head, "I think I'll just explore the house." He smiled, "Alright. We'll be back in a bit" He closed the door and left. After I heard the car leave the drive way I left my room and went downstairs. I wandered through the rooms aimlessly until I reach the basement door. I don't usually do basements, something about them weirded me out. I turned the knob and slowly went down the stairs. I found the light switch and flicked it on. It was empty for the most part, just some old dusty furniture. I sighed and turned back towards the stairs but stopped in my tracks. "Who are you?" I asked the blonde boy at the top of the stairs. He just gave me a smile and walked away. I flew up the stairs. "Don't walk away! Who the hell are you?!" I yelled, rounding the corner into the kitchen. It was empty. I ran through the house checking the rooms. All empty. I sat on my bed. Did I imagine him? I had to. There was no way he could have just vanished. It must have been the light playing tricks on me. I ran a hand through my longish black hair and stood. "You were imagining things Cynthia" I mumbled to myself. "No you weren't" said someone behind me. I spun on my heel and found no one. "Fuck" I muttered under my breath.
