Lina stared up at the house and shrugged. "Looks normal enough to me," she said cheerfully, shouldering her pack. The realtor smiled at her remark, but wrung his hands nervously.
"Yes, yes, but these country folk, there's no arguing with them." He sighed, trying very hard to look unconcerned. Lina rolled her eyes as she saw him edge away from a shadow. Superstitious moron, she thought, balancing the weight of her backpack and duffel bag on her shoulders. He's scared stiff of some stupid ghost story. She sighed, walking from the car to her new home. Home. What a weird concept.
Lina tilted her head back to stare at the towers of the gigantic building. It was right out of a horror flick; the mist and all. It was dark and grey, its once beautiful walls now chipped and peeling, it's porch swing dusty, broken and neglected. Three stories worth of decrepit siding held up a roof whose shingles had seen better days, most of which had retired. Two chimneys on either side gave the feeling that the house was looking at you, but Lina couldn't really pin down why they did so.
Other than that, it was a great deal. The windows were all intact, and the inside of the house was completely furnished. The only thing wrong with the interior was the faded wallpaper and blankets of dust tucked over the sleeping furnishings.
Lina trudged up the steps as the realtor drove away. She snorted in contempt as he raced down the drive so fast his tired spun and left rocks pelting the surrounding greenery. At least the story had gotten her a good price on the place. It was cheaper to buy it than to rent an apartment, because no one wanted to live there. Moronic country bumpkins. Lina rolled her eyes at the idiotic townspeople and kicked open the door.
"I'm home!" She yelled into the surrounding silence. Odd. The words that she had always thought about yelling echoes falsely in her ears, turning back at her to stab her heart. It's not home. She thought, tossing her bags to the floor. It's a place to live. There's a large, painful difference.
Lina sighed and flopped down on a chair. It was covered in dust an inch thick, but she was so dirty she didn't care. My first task, once I air this wreck out a bit, is to take a shower. I hope the pipes still work. She let her head loll back and stared at the ceiling arcing above her, complete with filthy chandelier. I miss that aspect of living in one place.
Lina sighed again. She was getting too depressed lately. She needed a nice, long shower to clear her mind. She stood and searched for the nearest bathroom, ignoring the prickly feeling on the back of her neck. Damn locals are getting me superstitious, she mused, heading in a random direction.
Lina stood under the faucet, letting the lukewarm water rain down on her. Her fiery red hair was plastered to her face, back, and arms, the water darkening the usually fiery red locks to a deep, molten sunset. Her startling ruby eyes were scrunched tight against the spray upon her face, and she raised her lithe artist's hands toward the stream as if to heaven.
When was the last time I had a home? The unbidden thought floated out of her subconscious before she could quell it in favor of a relaxing shower, and she cursed silently for letting the question pervade her peace.
Never, a voice in the back of her mind whispered to her.
When was the last time I stayed in one place for more than two weeks? She thought instead. I haven't had a permanent residence since I lived with my parents. That had been over two years ago. Damn bigot, Lina thought, scrubbing the salt water away from her eyes in favor of the sulfur-ridden liquid that streamed from the showerhead. Football, cheerleading, and sex; that's all teens are supposed to enjoy. Lina read too much, she was too skinny, she paid too much attention to school and not enough to boys. A fact that her boyfriend had very much resented.
And no one loved my art... Lina felt her eyes fill with tears and hastily blinked them back. She wouldn't let them bring her down. She'd made it out alive, hadn't she? She didn't end up dead in a gutter, did she? She was proving them all wrong, wasn't she?
"Your art. Your art? What kind of a thing is that to waste time and money on? It's a useless pattering in colored mud, you little dike." The words had sliced through all the walls she had built up over her short fifteen years of life, a ripping claw of cruelty dragging through her hopes, dreams, and ambition. "You'll never amount to anything if you go by that. You'll end up dead in a ditch, like the trash you are." No one had understood.
Then her boyfriend had flat out told her she was going to marry him. He had already talked to her parents, and they agreed.
That was the night I ran away... Lina crammed all of her important belongings and most robust clothing into her duffel that night. She took it and her art pack and left town, running away as soon as possible. I wanted to follow my dreams, Lina mused, smiling slightly. I knew I was good, and I wouldn't let them get in the way.
The problem is, dreams can only go so far. Lina soon learned the hard way that drawings only sell when you find the right audience. She hitchhiked back and forth across the state, then half the country, never staying in one place very long. Lina couldn't afford to, and she didn't want to. She had enough plastic tarp to keep her and her drawings dry, and that's all she really needed this far north, where the bears outnumbered the humans ten to one. She liked it. She was free, and moreover, she was happy. Lina could draw all day, sit and stare at the sun-filled sky or listen to the rain patter on her homemade tent. She didn't have the luxury of many baths, but there was no one around to comment on her smell, so it didn't matter to her. I could draw, and I was making a living on what I loved. It was enough for her.
But that was two years. Two years of only having acquaintances, two years of having a cheap plastic tarpaulin the only thing between her and the driving rain. Two years of backaches, hunger, and cold. Lina had had it for at least another year.
So she'd saved up all that time, scrimping together what she had and stowing it away. Sometimes she would go without breakfast, sometimes she would go without food at all. But she'd managed to save enough to get a place somewhere for long enough to relax.
I wasn't planning on buying anything permanent, Lina mused, letting the water numb her back as she sat in the tub, staring at the yellowed porcelain sides. And yet, fate had pushed another way. Oh well. I can always come back every so often. It's near an art town. That's why she had decided to sit for a while near this town, if you could call it that. Guildton was about three miles wide in any direction. Its main export was art, of all things, and people actually drove up from who-knows-where to buy it. She had planned on renting an apartment nearby and staying there until her next rent was due, but the add on a telephone post had caught her eye for some reason. The house was large, at least a mile from the town, deep in the surrounding woods. No one lived around for miles; it was perfect for Lina, who would rather not see many people. She'd snapped at the chance.
However, she wasn't stupid. She'd asked around for why it was so cheap, and found her answer.
Hauntings.
Lina snorted and pulled up on the drain to let the tub fill up with the shower water. She hated to sound like she had come from a Scooby Doo show, but there were no such things as ghosts. So she had rolled her eyes and politely listened until the nice old woman that had told her about it finished talking, then left.
Still, Lina had to admit the long-neglected romantic in her thought it was very exciting. The ghost was rumored to be an artist, one of the best of his time. He had built the house with his friends, ever block lovingly stacked onto another, until I was finished. He had then proposed to his true love, which had turned him down flat. Some stories said that she had fallen in love with another man, some said she was only in the relationship until he finished spending his last dime on her. The man had morosely traveled to the nearest bar to drown his sorrows, and had drunkenly announced that he would no longer even speak to females.
He died with his car wrapped around a tree on his way to his new, empty home. Lina sighed. Love troubles, who needs 'em. It's not worth it, I just avoid it altogether now. She thought, sinking back into the hot water.
Who am I kidding. I haven't had the chance. But I'm glad I haven't. The last thing she needed was an artistic, romantic death. She wasn't stupid. Anyone who thinks dying for love is cool is a moron, Lina thought to herself, rising from the water and toweling herself dry.
She looked over her shoulder at a sudden brush of cold air against her back. Funny, I know I left the window closed, she thought, looking at the closed window. The air was full of steam ad she had stuffed a towel under the door to keep the chill air out. And yet she felt the frigid air travel across her back again. She shuddered and dressed hastily. Damn ghost thinking has me shook up, She mused, opening the door. The cold air was a blow to her senses, and she stood there reeling for a moment. She shuddered and walked stiffly out the door. Now that the sun had set, the house seemed even more empty and lonely, the dark shadows twisting and grasping at her heels. Damn my active imagination. It was too big a house for one person, and she knew it. She would probably only live in one room the entire time, if she could find it. I can't go to bed this freaked out. Lina glared at an offending shadow and walked resolutely downstairs, turning on each and every working light as she did. I do not have to deal with this. All I have to do is be busy, then my troubles will fade away. Lina threw herself into cleaning the downstairs.
With fear and nervousness to feed it, her work went rather fast. She concentrated on cleaning and cleaning only, finishing sooner than she would have if she had wanted to clean only for the sake of having a clean house. But the cold chills down her spine had moved her to immerse herself in it. Not to mention the feeling midway into the night that someone was behind her. Add that to the soft, niggling thought in the back of her head that kept saying Someone hates you here, and you get instant devotion to a task. Lina had cleaned the entire first floor by the time the sun peeked its golden head over the horizon.
Guess that's enough for now, Lina grinned, staring around at the room. Not hotel quality, but good enough. I can live with it. She yawned, feeling sleep rise up and pull her into its darkening embrace. I think I'll just crash on the sofa, she mused, only half awake, as she collapsed into the cushions. Her last thought was, I wonder how he feels about his house being cleaned? before sleep finally closed it's night-clad arms about her and pulled her into blissful oblivion.
Lina stretched and blearily opened her eyes to see the sun just beginning to set. A hue the color of her now wildly untamable locks spread across the sky, looking as though someone had spilled blood across the horizon. The said hair was a hopeless mass of tangles now that she had cleaned and slept with the long tresses unbound, allowing the strands to hold to each other in unbreakable snarls and knots. She sighed and started to work on removing the worst of the knots from her waterfall of serpentine fire, wishing for the eightieth time that she could cut it without crying for a week.
Lina spun, brush flying from her hands and clattering across the floor as she heard a soft hiss of displaced air from behind her. She cringed at the resulting noise as she glared nervously for the source of the noise, only to find none. Shivering in the now frigid room, she stood abruptly and want to survey the rest of the house. Anything to get my mind to think of something other than ghost stories, She muttered silently, peering through doors. The house was dead silent. Lina cringed at the metaphor, but it was true. There were no living things in that house other than her. For some reason, not even spiders would dare go near the house. They're smarter than I am, I suppose. Lina thought wryly, padding softly down the hall. They know better than to believe ghosts don't exist. She stopped at a huge pair of doors, ornately carved and beautifully decorated. Lina shrugged and pulled on the heavy doors with all of her slight weight, opening it enough for her to enter. After pulling the door closed behind her, she turned to look at the room.
Magnificent.
It was the only word that could make it into her beauty-stunned mind. The room was filled from floor to ceiling with sculptures, paintings, sketches and drawings. The floor was tiled in a breathtaking Aphrodite, and the ceiling had been lovingly detailed with painted angels. There was a twenty-foot statue of a wind goddess, her robes billowing out to embrace the doves, hawks, cranes, swallows, and countless other flying creatures. Lina's vision swam and she hastily remembered to breathe, turning in a slow circle to look at the awe-inspiring splendor that danced while standing still in the room that was obviously loved more than a child.
Get out. It was less the words and more the feeling that filled her with hatred, urging her to leave before it lost it's temper.
Lina sun to look behind her, staring into the cold nothingness that was following her. She looked around the room slowly, searching for a slight movement, a sign of life. No, not of life, came the panicked thought. It's not alive anymore...
Get out.
Lina pressed up against a wall, staring into the now dark shadows of the previously well lit room. A cloud shrouded the room from the sun that streamed in from the immense picture windows that had filled the room with streaming waterfalls of liquid sunlight.
Get out.
Lina Steeled herself, and looked into the room. Maybe at something, maybe at nothing.
"No," she replied softly, not allowing her voice to shake. She stood up to muggers before, she could stand up to one stupid lovelorn ghost.
Out.
"No." She said a little louder, standing up a bit straighter.
Out.
"I won't," was Lina's reply, and she walked forward a tiny step into the room. "I only want to see your work. It's beautiful." She spun again in the room, staring at the love and care that was so exactingly bestowed upon each and every creation in the room. "You did exquisite work. I wish I could instill this awe n the people who look at my drawings..." She trailed off, Staring at the dancing, standing, and stooping figures of a detailed gypsy painting.
Out. This time the order was a bit weaker, less demanding. Lina smiled into the room, which was slowly lighting.
"I want to be this good. You were so talented," She mused aloud, reaching out to touch a detailed bust of a young woman, whose eyes shone with a light all their own in the earthen clay. Her thick, shoulder-length hair was slightly messy, but her happy smile was enough to make one fall in love with the girl who had inspired the beautiful sculpture.
DON'T TOUCH THAT! A panicked, hurt, and thoroughly angry wave of emotion made Lina cringe back from the statue, and away from the room. GET OUT! NOW! The doors slammed open behind her, causing everything in the room to rattle dangerously, and Lina spun on her heel and raced out of the room as quickly as her feet could carry her. She didn't pause in the hall, the stairs, or the main room and raced immediately outside, running until her breath came out in shallow pants.
Well, she thought, clutching her wildly beating heart, Now I know what she looked like.