Dreams can Hurt.

A dust crusted pickup truck pulled into the gravel driveway, its tires flinging the
small rocks into the yard. Its destination, was the house upon the hill. It stood tall, like a
queen upon her thrown, it's wooden planked siding peeling and worn. Cavernous windows
beckoned the viewer, as if eyes to the souls of the past. The oldie station blared upon the
radio, it's passenger singing off-key along with it, disturbing the resting peace about it.
The vehicle came to a stop in front of the majestic house, it's new owner stepping out
of the driver's side and moving to the back. Still singing, unruly bangs of a honey hue were
tossed about in the wind, so that the womann had to push them away from her azure eyes.
The singing soon stopped as she hauled the backpack over her shoulder and turned to look at
the house.

A challenging grin crossed her lips, as she bounded up steps that creaked under her
footsteps. Throwing open the door, who's hinges groaned, she stepped in yelling at the top of
her lungs, "Hello!" Her voice echoed back to her before fading back into the darkness. Her
words came out in an amused way, "Let's just see how haunted this place is" Thus said she
flipped the light switch next to the door and her eyes filled with a look of awe. One could
hardly think the inside was so much different from the outside.

Her footsteps resounded in the stillness of the house as she stepped in. All around her
were artifacts of a previous owner, most of which was ethnically european. A shiver ran
down her spine, as the dense air surrounded her. Or was it that the atmosphere itself was
dense, a pressure of memories unknown that permeated the walls. Shaking her head, she
laughed nervously at herself and stepped over to the fireplace as it caught her eye. A hand
reached up and plucked one of the photographs from it's mantle and wiped away the dust
that lingered there.

A young man about her own age stared back in black and white, yellowed with age.
Alayna found himself tracing the stubborn line of a jaw upon the photograph. She wondered
what this man's story was, and she had to conclude that this must be the previous owner of
the house.

Suddenly she had a keen feeling that she was being watched, the hairs upon the back
of her neck standing up. Knuckles turned white as her hand tightened around the golden
gilded frame before placing it firmly back upon the mantle. She turned slowly, almost
expecting someone to be there and to her chagrin there wasn't. She chuckled at herself, and a
slender finger scratched at her head. "Alayna, you're gettin' paranoid." She said to herself,
before once more picking up her bags and making her way around the house. One thing was
certain, this place would be a bitch to fix up, but she was sure it would be one hell of a house
once she did.

So caught up in plans of renovation was she, that she didn't notice the pair of emerald
orbs that watched her from the darkness of the shadows.