1. The Girl and the Boy

The outside brightness soon diminished, and the sun was only able to stroke the outskirts of town, trying to grasp as much as it could with the last of its golden rays. In my family’s residence, the wind was the worst enemy. The gusts didn’t cause any damage to our house, but it would get irritating once in a while as the house wracked and creaked each time a gust of wind would stream by.

Now, as you could probably guess, was one of the worst windy days.

Sliding my window shut, I peeked at the outside sidewalk and spotted a girl. No, not a girl. It was the girl.

The girl who would pass by every so often.

I could tell this house was of sentimental value to her because ever since I could remember, she’s been visiting this house for everyday of each summer. She would only go as far as to try to glimpse at it, though, then she would quickly stride away, sobbing.

She seemed to be in her twenties, so I assumed she went to college between the summers. She was pale, and her face was dull and lifeless. Her gray eyes appeared sore from crying, and her lips drooped down to a sad frown.

She took one more remorseful glance at my house, and once she caught sight of me, she immediately started to lope away from me, with her auburn hair trailing behind her in a beautiful river that tangled in the wind.

This time, though, I decided to chase after her. I was a good runner, after all, so I gave it a try. Bursting through my front door and across the grass-filled front lawn, I yelled after her and tried to snatch her attention.

“Wait!” I cried desperately, picking up my pace and rushing with the help of the frosty breeze. “Wait! Please, wait!”

I hastened past run-down buildings and bustling vehicles, realizing I was running farther than I meant to. I was a little far from home by now, but I was adamant in catching up to the girl.

Once the chase was over, we both panted and tried to gasp for dear breaths.

“Y-You run really fast,” I noted, giving her a cordial smile and extending a hand to her. “I’m Samantha, by the way. But I go by Sammy.”

With a tentative look that danced across her eyes, she took my hand and shook it gingerly. “... I’m called... Sofia...” the girl choked out between stifled breaths.

Up close, I could tell she was very beautiful, every contour of her face a perfect feature. Her thin, choppy hair tumbled over her square shoulders, knotty and uncombed but still attractive. And her eyes were a very fascinating pair, like open windows that lead to the content of her soul.

Tearing myself back into reality, I went straight to the point. “Alright, Sofia. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why do you always visit my house during the summers?”

Her lips trembled, her eyes far off into her own captivating world. As her whole body wracked with tremors, I began to take back what I said.

“I-I didn’t mean to upset you like that,” I apologized. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. Hey, are you okay, Sofia?” Naked panic glinted in my caramel eyes.

“It’s been six years,” she gasped and coughed. “Six years, and I’m still not over it!”

“Did you used to live in that house?” I murmured quietly, rubbing her back to try to calm her down as her shoulders quivered violently. Pools of hot, wet tears were brimming on her pretty eyes while her lips twisted into an unfitting grimace.

Then, all of a sudden, her eyes shot wide open, her hands instantly clutching at my shoulders until her finger nails dug deeply into my skin. “Have you seen him?” she questioned, eyes big with curiosity. “Have you seen him yet?”

Astonished, I replied, “Who are you talking about? Sofia, are you okay? You’re almost hyperventilating.”

“You haven’t seen him yet,” she stated, disappointment manifesting on her expression. “Never mind, then. Just... just tell me if you see him.”

This girl was crazy, I realized at once.

She began trudging, dragging her feet heavily on the concrete ground, and proceeded lifelessly towards nowhere in particular.

I tried calling after her again, but she refused to give a response, so I eventually left her alone.



Due to the pestering wind that blasted against the house, I couldn’t get my sleep. I tried drinking milk and listening to soothing rain patters from my CD player, but none took great effect.

Have you seen him? Have you seen him yet?

Her voice swirled in my mind, going round and round like a Ferris wheel and never fading away. I rolled over and sprawled on my tummy across the bed, but Sofia’s voice was still there, stuck in my memory.

Creak.

That sound wasn’t from the outside, so I perked my head up, switching my lights on and calling out, “Mom? Dad? Is that you? I can’t get any sleep!” I complained, but received no reply.

An icy chill brushed against the nape of my neck, and I shivered. “Mom? Dad?”

I was now getting scared. I was sure my side of town didn’t have any thieves skimming through the neighbourhood houses. So who or what could have possibly caused the creak?

Creak. There it went again.

My fingers crept underneath my bed, groping for my emergency baseball bat. I gripped on the stick with all the strength I had and bravely threw my bedroom door open.

No one was there.

Stupidly, I called out again, “Mom? Dad? Hello? This isn’t funny.”

I went through the hallways and almost made my way to my parents’ bedroom, but I halted as soon as I saw a yellow flash of hair dart towards my bedroom. My heart took a sharp lurch.

Nobody, with the exception of me, in my family ever had blond hair...

So maybe there was a robber here, but I didn’t give a damn. This was my house, and they had no right to simply barge in without permission and try to steal our valuables.

As I ran through the hallways, I made as much noise as I could, banging my baseball bat against the walls in an attempt to wake up my parents. I sprinted to my room and immediately felt a strange draft floating in it.

“Who’s there?” I tried to put a brave front, but face it; I had goose bumps sprouting all over my body, especially the back of my neck.

To be honest, I never ever believed in ghosts and all those supernatural jazz, but the minute I witnessed a dark figure, I yelled out as loudly as I could, at the very top of my lungs.

'Oh, please, don't let me die,' I thought.

“It’s past midnight, Samantha,” my dad grumbled, squinting his eyes at the bright light of my bedroom. His hair was laid on his head in a heap of dark brown mess, chaotic and unforgivable. “Do you mind telling me why in the world you would bang your baseball bat so damn loud in the hall?”

I grew flustered, and a delicate shade of pink flitted on my cheeks. “I... well, I thought there was a robber or something...” I mumbled sheepishly. “And I saw someone with blond hair just pass by, so I panicked...”

My dad sighed and brought his eyes heavenwards. “I’ll go check,” he grunted and shuffled along the halls, grumbling something incoherently.

He checked every corner of the house, making sure not to rouse mom from sleep, and found nothing, except for a few cobwebs dangling faintly on the ceiling.

“See? Nothing to be scared about,” dad assured.

I felt like a toddler, and I was so humiliated by my idiocy.

“Go to sleep now.” With that said, he left and got more of his precious sleep. I wrapped myself with my blankets and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that what I saw earlier was just my imagination.

Creak.

“Seriously?” I hissed. “Again?”

Creak.

It was coming closer. I could almost hear the faint footsteps nearing me, thrumming on the floor as it increased speed.

Then I realized that whoever it was, he was running now... towards me.