A girl moves into a house with her auntie and uncle. She gets to her room and discovers a young girl. The girl keeps disapearing and reappearing. The main character has to find out whats going on and why by piecing together all that she has found, the girl, the picture, the markings on the wall..
"Here we are, take these up to your room. It's the one at the top, go on." My auntie said shoving a box and my bag into my arms. Before I got to the front door, I looked up, seeing the dirty round window at the top of the crooked house, not wanting to take another step, but I heard my auntie coming up behind me, "Hurry up, move!"
The further I got up the stairs, the more my mind was telling me to turn around, whatever was behind that door, I didn't want to see. But I kept walking, curious. A knot in my stumach became tighter and tighter very quickly.
I started to slow down as I reached the door. My hand seemed to freeze on the dirty brass handle - it was unnaturally cold.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and walked in. A cold feeling crept over me, something wasn't right. I could sense I wasn't alone. I dared myself to open my eyes, regretting it the second the lids flicked open. A thin, young girl was standing in the middle of the room, staring at me from under parts of her straggly, blonde hair which was loosely plaited. She had a small patterned dress on with tiny red stains.
"Who are you?" I breathed, back against the door which had close behind me. There was no reply. She just stood there, her grey-blue eyes fixed on mine. I closed mine, praying that it was all a dream, "please." I whispered. I opened them again, the girl was gone. There was something different, the window had been opened and was sending in a breeze which made the old, torn curtain move around, revealing the grey, faded wall behind it. Also, there was now a small stool under the window. Ok, it's just a mind trick - nothing to worry about. It was the lighting, and the curtain. I reassured myself. I'm just tired after the long journey.
I looked around the room to find a low, messy bed, like someone had just gotten out of it. Strange, I thought, the family that lived here before never took this with them. Then again, it looked like it had come out of the nineteenth century. I gazed around the rest of the room to find a chest of drawers with a picture frame on it. The glass of the frame was smashed and the picture torn in half, however, someone had carefully placed the torn pieces back in the frame. The photograph showed a family: a mother, a father, and two children, a boy and a girl. The clothes were old fashioned - maybe a dressup party? The mother, father and son had huge smiles on their faces while the girls looked close to tears. I studied the picture carefully. Funny, I thought, the girl in this picture looks awfully like the one I just saw. Same straggly blonde hair, same thin face, same patterned dress...I gasped.