The young woman sighed as her father parked their minivan in front of an old two-story house. While she could imagine it being the subject of envy during its time, it was hard to ignore how run-down it now looked.
Its once red brick walls were now brown in places and moss-covered in others. The front lawn which, judging by the plant boxes, used to be bright and cheerful with colourful flowers was now so overran with weed and unidentifiable, dried-up plants that she wouldn't be surprised if snakes slithered in them. And its windows were so filthy that she doubted she would be able to see anything through them.
"Dad," she said, not bothering to hide her displeasure. "Of all places, why here?" she proceeded to ask, her eyes still on the house.
"Luna, we've talked about this," her father replied and though he tried to conceal it, he still sounded tired.
After all that had happened, the last thing she wanted was to add to her father's burden but it was hard when he'd decided to move into a small town in the middle of nowhere. She didn't grow up in a big city nor was she asking to live in one but this place just looked so detached from the modern world. It was like traveling back in time except that the structures didn't travel back with them.
After her mum was murdered and the killer convicted, they both decided to move out of the place her father called home for most of his life and hers all her life until now. They also agreed that a complete change of scenery would help them heal faster but she didn't expect this much change.
The village was a small, quiet one with houses just as old-looking as the one she was looking at now, if not older. She wished she could call it quaint, but no. The place reminded her of one of those horror movies where a the villagers were either cannibals or evil cults just waiting for the right time to kill them. She shivered at the thought.
She was nineteen. Her life was supposed to be revolving around socialising, partying. She could see neither happening. And she was still over a month away from the start of a new school year.
"I know it doesn't look much right now but once we've had it nice and clean, you'll see," her father assured her. She turned to face him and nodded, not because she actually believed him but because she knew that not much could be done about the situation. Not to mention the pleading glint in his eyes.
***
It took them only half an hour to unload and move their stuff into the house, thanks to their neighbours who, much to her relief, seemed to be really friendly and welcoming without being creepy. She was also happy to learn that the Internet worked there and that they had a decent movie house and supermarket-slash-video store just a short drive away.
They were even saved the trouble of preparing lunch as their new neighbours brough in different dishes. Grateful, they invited the lot to join them. Lunch was a cheerful affair and the food wasn't bad at all. By the time it was over, she had already made a couple of potential friends who offered to help her with the dishes while the rest helped her dad with other stuff. Before night came, they were mostly settled, leaving them with just a few boxes—their personal stuff—to unpack, and making the exterior look like a proper home exterior again. Again, the neighbours kindly offered to help but they declined saying they'd helped them more than enough already.
After dinner, Lorraine and Iver, her new friends, invited her to a night stroll and with her dad's encouragement, she joined them. They hadn't even gone far when she stopped. She didn't notice it before but there was a house beside theirs though it was in a worse state than their house had been. Where their house looked weathered, this one looked like it was ready to collapse anytime soon.
She was about to turn away and continue walking when she caught a glimpse of a very pale face peeking through one of the upper windows. She gasped and stepped back, bumping into one of her companions.
"Did you see that?" she asked and pointed toward the window but the face was already gone.
"See what?" Lorraine and Iver asked in unison, following the direction with their eyes.
"I saw a face," she said, her voice sounding breathless. Finally, she was able to pull her gaze away from the window, just in time to see the two exchange glances. "What?" she asked and the two dragged her away, stopping only once the house was out of sight.
"Looks like you've just been welcomed by the Ghost," Iver said as they sat on logs in a vacant lot, Lorraine nodding beside him.
"The Ghost?" she repeated, searching her friends' faces for any sign that they were kidding her. For all she knew, that pale face could be one of her teenage neighbours pranking her and Lorraine and Iver were on in the joke.
Lorraine nodded again and wet her lips with her tongue before she went on to explain. "That house has been empty for a long time. The people who used to live there were a married couple. The woman had a miscarriage and the doctors told her she could no longer conceive. Their marriage went downhill from there. They filed for divorce then moved out.
"Though abandoned, the house was quiet and as normal as an empty house could be. But about five years ago, people started seeing it—him. A pale figure of a man looking out one of the windows; one moment there, gone the next. Priests have been brought in several times to bless, even exorcise, the house but none worked. He didn't leave." Lorraine paused, as if waiting for the words to sink in.
Luna wanted so badly to not believe them. Ghosts weren't real, right? But she'd seen him, the Ghost. And now that she thought about it, it was unlikely that anyone would risk their lives just for a few moments of entertainment. It was a miracle that the house was still standing. It couldn't possibly still hold the weight of a fully grown man.
"So my closest neighbour is a ghost," she said barely over a whisper and took in a deep breath. "How fucking great," she then added, louder this time.
***
It had been almost a week since the night she saw the Ghost and she hadn't again seen even just a sign of his existence since then. She was starting to think that though no one was pranking her, it was possible that it was just a figment of her imagination. After all, she was tired and upset that night. Still, how could she explain the accounts of other witnesses? Even some of the more elderly residents swore that the Ghost really did exist.
Little did she know that she was soon to have another—closer—encounter with him.
It was the first time she was left alone in the house. Her dad had to return to their hometown to take care of some legal matters regarding their old property. He offered to take her with him but she assured him she'd be alright. She had forgotten about the Ghost and with the new home security her dad had installed, she felt completely safe.
After dinner, she made sure the alarm system was properly placed and set then headed upstairs to her bedroom where she watched movies on her laptop until she felt tired enough to sleep.
Next thing she knew, she woke up to the sound of her bedroom door slowly opening. She sat up and reached out to the side of her bed for her night lamp. "Dad, is that you?" she called out just as her hand found the switch. He said he wouldn't be home 'til after lunch the next day but she didn't want to scare herself. And maybe whatever business he had to take care of had been handled quickly.
But when her finger pressed the switch, she gasped as the faint light revealed a tall, pale man standing at the foot of her bed. She opened her mouth to scream but the man—the Ghost—was quick to clamp his hand over her mouth, effectively muffling the sound.
"Ssshhhh! Be quiet. I won't hurt you," the man whispered, his face barely an inch away from hers. Despite her terror, she couldn't help but note how warm both his hand and his breath were.
'Warm?' she thought. How come he was warm? Dead people were supposed to be cold, weren't they? But that wasn't really important at the moment. She had to get away from him.
With him straddling her legs, her blanket pinning them to the bed, she had no other choice but to use her hands. She tried to pry his hand off of her mouth but she caught her hands by her wrists and held them against her chest, forcing her to lie back down.
"Listen, you're in danger but not from me. I'm here to protect you. I know you don't know me and that I look... frightening," he said, faltering on the last word. Was that pain she sensed? But before she could analyse it, it was gone. "I will let you go but, please, be quiet and follow me, alright?"
