The moment I realised they were going into the attic I panicked. I didn't even bothering floating, I just thought myself there. I fixed the ariel after messing it up, but the father was still walking up the stairs. I went down the hallway, glaring at him. I saw a shudder pass through him and he stared around curiously. For the most part, I kept my emotions under control. But the attic was my space and no one, especially strangers, were going near it. Sometimes I forgot how the house could respond to my emotions. The electricity snapped on, the light above the father smashing into dangerous glints of glass. I watched him cry out, feeling a small jolt of satisfaction.
“Dear?” the mother yelled, her voice holding hysterical edge. “Whatever is the matter?” The father blinked a few times to reorientate himself before responding.
“The lights,” he began, his voice hoarse .“Susan, I really think it’s really best we call the electrician tomorrow. All of the lights,” he hesitated again, a visible shudder moving through his body. “They just switched themselves on and burst.” He said, pulling himself up slowly on the staircase railing. The whole way he was shivering, because I wasn't going to stop glaring at him until he got the hell away from the attic. I watched him retreat. His wife met him part way, sensing he was spooked, and patted his shoulder lightly. Behind her hovered Edie. I swore she'd met my gaze just a moment again, and once again I could sense her being aware of me. I didn't care, as long as they all learnt to stay away. I sensed the parents go into the kitchen downstairs and wondered why the girl wasn't joining them.
“Stop it,” she said, determination lacing her words. I blinked, anger replaced by shock. “We got the message, don't go near the attic. Now leave us alone.” She covered her mouth once the words were out, her cheeks flushing. She moved her widened eyes away and raced downstairs. I moved to block her path. Not that I was technically a barrier, but she stopped anyway.
“You can see me?” I half-yelled. She hesitated, her chest moving frantically with her breaths. She seemed like she was about to have a panic attack. I unfisted my hands, trying to calm my own emotions. “You can see me?” I repeated, keeping my voice steady. She moved a shaking arm to the banister, holding onto it for dear life, backing up a step.
“Yes,” she whispered, gulping. “Please let me pass,” she added, her voice desperate. I wondered what was stopping her just storming past me. I went to the attic, leaving her alone, for now. How was it possible? I wasn't sure I cared. After two years of being alone, everything had changed. And I'd given her every reason to hate me, brilliant. Downstairs in the kitchen I could hear the conversation between her parents.
“It was weird, I swear something was there with me, watching me,” the father whispered quietly, his body still shaking.
“I'm sure it was just your imagination playing tricks honey,” the mother replied, her voice soothing as she ran a worried hand through his hair.
“I'm not sure it was,” he murmured to himself. The mother didn't comment, sighing tiredly.