Miriam Smith grumbled as her parents drove down the road. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the squirrels were scurrying, and yet Miriam felt no cheer. It was probably because of the fact that she was moving away from her beloved Los Angeles in favor of…Boston…
Now, she thought it was a cool place and all but…she would rather study it in her history book then actually live there. But no, her parents thought that the move would be good for her. "The air is cleaner over there," one would say. "It will build up your self esteem," said another. To tell the truth, she couldn't see any difference in her health or in her self esteem. She was right; it was just a trap to get her to give in.
The car suddenly halted, causing Miriam to jump out of her seat quite literally. "What, what's going on?" she asked in a sour tone, clearly annoyed.
Her mother glanced back at her, giving her a warning look. "We're here," she responded quite sarcastically.
Miriam rolled her eyes and looked at her new house. It was quite big, with brick walls and a colonial feel surrounding it. The windows looked as if they hadn't been washed in ages. The door was old fashioned, and the garden was overgrowing with weeds.
She felt as if she had stepped into her history book.
"Isn't it lovely?" she heard her mother squeal.
"Yes, it is unique!" her father agreed. "What do you think, Miriam?"
"Is this only our house, or are we sharing it with ghosts?" Miriam grumbled under her breath.
Her father ignored her sarcasm. "Aw, Miriam, this is a wonderful home! Think of all the wonderful events it has witnessed! Maybe it needs a bit of work, but it is a unique work of art!"
That's what Miriam got for having the popular painter, Ricky Smith, for a father.
"A scary work of art," Miriam corrected him.
"Just shut up and go unpack your things," her mother said quite bluntly. "Your room is on the second floor, two doors on the left."
"Thank you for giving me the privilege of choosing my room…" Miriam told them sarcastically.
"Just go," her mother repeated. Miriam didn't stick around to find out when her mother was going to explode.
As she approached the door, Miriam couldn't help but feel as if she had some kind of…aura surrounding her completely. A sensation that made her feel helpless…lonely…unhappy inside. A cold chill went down her spine. Talk about creepy, Miriam thought with a shudder.
When she walked in, her mouth dropped open. The place seemed as if it hadn't been touch for years! There was a thick coat of dust on the floor, the curtains were matted with dirt, and the room was completely dark. It really did feel as if she had stepped into a different time period…
Shaking off the thought, Miriam dragged her bags up the creaky steps, walked down the dark, musty hall, and finally found her room, a large room with ancient furniture. What is this, some kind of creepy haunted house from a horror movie or something? Miriam thought with a knot in her stomach. Leave it to my parents to find the creepiest house around to be our new house.
Sighing, Miriam threw herself on the bed. She didn't even bother to get up when a mass of dust rose into the air as she landed. She was very, very tired, and was prepared to sleep until noon if she could. She felt drowsiness take over her body. It felt so warm…so comfortable…
"Who are you?!"
Miriam instinctively sat up and looked around. She was sure she had heard somebody call out her name, but no one was around…
"Dad, are you there?" Miriam called out, thinking it may have been a prank by her father.
"Probably my mind playing tricks on me," she concluded. "I am half asleep after all."
Miriam sat up again, looking around once more. Nothing was there. "This isn't funny!" she called out. "Whoever you are, come out of there!"
Not willing to deal with anymore disturbances, Miriam got out of her bed and analyzed the room. Aside from the ancient bed, couch, and trunk, the room was barren. The scarlet design was peeling off the walls. A full length mirror lied a couple of feet away. Just beyond it was a dark, shadowy corner.
Okay, this is getting just plain creepy… Miriam thought a chill running down her spine. I just got here, and already I feel as if I stepped into my history book…
Miriam walked quietly towards the mirror, a strange feeling overwhelming her. It felt as if she wasn't the only one in the room. She quickly shook the thought away from her. That was just preposterous. She kept on going, her heart beating faster and faster. At last, she reached the mirror. It had obviously not been touched for decades, as the glass had turn a slight yellow and thick in dust. As she peered into the old glass, she felt quite odd; it was as if it was not her reflection in the mirror, but rather, someone else's. And yet, it looked like her. Miriam shook the thought from her head. How could she be so superstitious?
Sighing, she walked towards the window, feeling that she should get some fresh air. But, the moment she stepped next to the window sill, she felt a sudden chill run down her back. She quickly backed away. This house was most certainly strange…
Miriam took a deep breath. This is all in my mind, she told herself; just amuse yourself for a while. Look through that dirty old trunk or something.
She sat down near the trunk and started to sort out various items from it. As she took out the various antique books, gowns, and shoes from it, she wondered why no one cared to put them in a museum. But at last, she found something that caught her interest.
A newspaper article, hidden deep within the items of the trunk, told of a baffling case concerning two rich, young heirs. Apparently, one winter morning, a friend had come over to pay some money, but the two siblings never answered. Concerned, the friend had come in and searched the place. They were not there. The police took up the search, and never did find out what happened to them. They had disappeared without a trace.
Miriam's eyes widened as she glanced at the date of the publication: March 3, 1788. She was even more shocked to discover that those two siblings lived in her new house. Miriam felt a shiver go down her spine. The fact was certainly unnerving.
"I am so out of here!" Miriam thought to herself as she walked quickly towards her bedroom door. She grabbed the handle to open it, but it did not budge. Thinking it may be stuck, she tugged and pulled with all her strength. Nothing.
"Okay this is definitely creepy," she mumbled, sweat running down her pale, cold skin. She ran her hand through her hair. It felt as if she had been swimming; her ebony hair was literally soaked with sweat.
Aimlessly, her vision darted from the mirror to the unnatural shadow in the corner of her bed. It was as if there was something…odd about those two things…a connection, none the least. Deep in thought, her eyes rested upon the shadow.
In her mind, she saw a boy. He was beautiful, with dark brown hair framing his delicate pale face, slightly covering one of his beautiful black eyes. She blushed as she thought about it. Suddenly, it dawned on her that it was extremely unnatural for her to imagine a person she had never met before so accurately in her mind. Suspicious she reached towards the shadow…
…And felt a warm hand touch her back. Now deeply afraid, Miriam's blood ran cold, and her vision became blurry. In a few seconds, she was unconscious.