“I got the house,” I giggle into the phone, and she says, “Yay,” in a strangely dull tone.
“What? You’re not excited for me?”
“Maddy, I am. It’s a big thing for you, but there’s something about that house I just can’t place.” She sighs.
“Hey, it’s just a feeling. Besides, we looked it up on the internet. Nothing strange has ever happened there. Like, ever. So chill, girl.”
“Alright, alright. Whatever you say.”
There’s a long pause as we listen to each other breathe.
“Sooo, we have a house party coming up, righttt?” Her tone is suddenly high-pitched, and she sounds excited now.
I smile and jump to my feet, immediately listing everything we need to put in place before the preparations for the house party can begin.
“I’m coming over,” she says after I’m done rambling excitedly.
“Yes, you should do that.” I toss the phone onto the cushion and walk over to the wine bar, pick out the most expensive bottle, and pour myself a glass. I had saved for so long for a house. I had promised myself I would own one before my twenty-ninth birthday, and somehow, I had finally done it.
Willow and I stand in front of my newly acquired house. The sun is scorching, but we came prepared. We’re dressed in work clothes: boots, sun hats, fitted jeans, and long-sleeved shirts.
For a moment, we simply stare at the house as though we’re seeing it for the first time. It is beautiful.
A bungalow with wide glass windows and a broad veranda stretching across the front. The soft cream paint on the walls has faded in places, and a few stubborn weeds have pushed their way through the cracks along the walkway. The shrubs lining the compound have grown wild, their branches reaching in every direction. They've obviously been left to do whatever they please but that was about to change.
“Let’s do this,” Willow says, a little out of breath. I nod and dip my hands into my pockets for the keys.
“I open this door in the name of the Father, the Son, and…”
Something shatters inside interrupting y prayer. We freeze.
I look at Willow. She looks at me but neither of us says a word. Then Willow slowly pushes the door open. She doesn’t step inside. She simply stands at the entrance, scanning the room. I peek over her shoulder but see nothing. Just cobwebs tucked into the corners and a thin film of dust coating the glass windows.
I clear my throat. Willow steps aside, and I walk past her. One step, two, three then I stop in the middle of the living room and turn to look at her. She’s still standing at the threshold, staring into the house with a look of suspicion.
“Stop being ridiculous, Will.”
She rolls her eyes and finally walks in, but she turns around almost immediately, stretching her hands out in front of her like someone searching for a criminal with a pew-pew.
“You’re so dramatic. It’s not cute,” I say, laughing as I walk toward the kitchen.
“This place is haunted. I feel it in my guts,” she whispers but I pay no attention.
The kitchen is perfect. It only needs a good cleaning but then I notice the broken glass scattered across the floor. I glance at the window, probably the wind, I think. Except the window is fastened shut. I unlock it and push it open. A cool breeze rushes in, carrying the fresh scent of the outdoors.
I look into the backyard. It’s spacious enough for a little garden. I’ve always wanted one. A smile creeps across my face as I imagine rows of vegetables and little pots of herbs sitting by the kitchen window. Then I pick up a broom and start sweeping but I stop suddenly.
“Umm… Will?”
She doesn’t respond so I step out of the kitchen and look around. “Will?” Stil nothing. So I walk down the hallway and find her emerging from one of the rooms.
She has a deadpan expression on her face. I stop. “What?” I ask, but she just stares at me.
To be continued…
