**hey ok sorry about my last first chapter (I made it so it's in the 20's now, thanks to Roxxi May for the help with that. I really wanted to make it then but I didn't know enough about the time period) so I just changed a few of the outfits, nothing else.
DATE: July 1, 1920
"Emily," my mom began from the driver's seat of the car. "Please, do this for me?"
I glared at her for a brief moment before turning my attention back to the sketchbook I had in front of me, scribbling out a detailed drawing of a flower.
She was talking once again about out moving to this old house she found in Connecticut which was near a doctor's office which she had gotten a job as a nurse at. Since we had enough money issues already since she had left her boyfriend who lived with us, we couldn't afford the gas to have her drive the two hours every morning and night.
I glanced up at my mom, her eyes were slightly wrinkled in the corners, the blue orbs which were inside seemed worn and tired. Her once shining blonde hair lay limply on her shoulders, frizzing slightly at the tips. Even her clothes were different than they used to be, she normally had on clean, matching outfits which would make her stand out in a crowd of women even younger than her. But now she just threw on an old lumpy dress every day when she wasn't in her scrubs.
I didn't like that I constantly told myself it was my fault she was falling downhill into depression. But it was halfway. A year after that she found that her boyfriend of seven years had been living a double life, and when he said he was going on business trips he had really been going to see his wife and three children. I had been the one to discover this because I followed him one day and listened into a phone conversation he was having, discovering he was talking to his wife. I told my mom and I couldn't help but blame myself for this. If I hadn't told her, life wouldn't have changed.
"Fine," I mumbled, she gave me a small smile and ran her hand down my dirty blonde hair which fell in layers around my shoulders.
"Dr. Aikman who lives in the house is going to rent out two of the bedrooms to us," she raved. "He seemed so friendly when I had met him. He has a son, I think he said he was sixteen like you."
I glanced over, "Oh."
"His name is Jonah." She rambled on.
"Don't you think it's a little weird that we are gonna be living in the same house as two other people?" I asked.
She sensed my discomfort and put a hand on my leg, "Dr. Aikman knows a few people who I am friends with and they said that he would be willing to let us stay with him while I work in this office over here. We need to be grateful."
I sighed and slumped in my seat, "Whatever."
"Look here it is!" she exclaimed, obviously faking excitement for my behalf.
I looked out the window at the large white house that lay before us. She parked in the rocky driveway and got out of the car, straightening out her dress before grabbing a suitcase from the trunk. I trudged after her, grabbing my suitcase. She turned to face me and quickly took my suitcase from me, putting it on the ground.
"Fix yourself, your clothes are all crooked," she commanded, always being a nag about things like that.
I had on my favorite marroon colored dress which ended above my knee and a matching cloche I grabbed my suitcase back from her, and followed her to the front door. She took out a key and slipped it into the doorknob, unlocking it with slight trouble.
"Hello?" she called as we walked in and I hushed her, slightly embarrassed.
"Hello ladies!" exclaimed a tall man with a high forehead, appearing in the doorway to the left which looked to lead into a living room.
He was defiantly overdressed for just a casual weekend day, he had on a crisp black suit and his best looking dress shoes. He had a strange looking face, slightly pushed back like he had gone through a wind tunnel. The circular glasses he had on went along with the curly beard, making him look like a regular creep.
"Hello you must be Dr. Aikman," my mom shuffled to put her bags down and shook his hand quickly. His grasp stopped my mom from shaking his hand after a second and he kissed the top of it, making her blush.
My eyes darted all over the room, so far all that I could see was that there was a living room to the left and a kitchen to the right. Straight ahead there appeared to be a dining room and a staircase right in front of us. The house seemed nice, but eerie. The feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had since my mom told me about the house was growing about three times its size.
"My pleasure Miss. Bayer," he gave her hand back gently. "And you must be Emily."
I shook my head, "Yeah, I am. Nice to meet you."
He stuck out a hand which I ignored, not wanting to get slobbered all over. He withdrew swiftly and gracefully, not showing any sign of disappointment that I ignored the gesture.
"Jonah!" he exclaimed, making me jump a little. "Help these ladies bring their bags to their rooms."
That moment he called out the name a tall boy appeared from the living room. His milky pale skin was flawless. He had on a pair of dress pants and a tucked in button down shirt which was a few tints tanner than his skin. The lines of his mouth were hanging open slightly, looking like he was on alert. Then my eyes wandered to his, they nearly made me lose my breath. Endless glassy and icy blue eyes seemed to be sucking me in, his pupils large.
"Jonah!" Dr. Aikman snapped.
"W-wha..oh I apologize. My name is Jonah, nice to meet you both," he bowed slightly.
"Take Miss. Emily to her room and drop off Miss. Harper's bag's in her bedroom while I show her around the house," he commanded.
"Yes sir," Jonah scurried to grab our bags and waited for me patiently as I followed him up the stairs. We walked silently until he led me to my bedroom, I glanced into each room that we walked by cautiously, afraid I would see something I shouldn't.
"This is your room." He said, and I nearly walked into him, not realizing he stopped walking.
"Do you need anything else?"
"No, I think I'm ok," I mumbled, his arctic eyes making my breath quicken faintly.
I walked into the room, glancing around. Carelessly throwing the suitcase on the rickety old bed, I found myself looking at the back of the closet door, directly across from the doorway entrance. There was a dusty white sheet over the mirror. I turned to thank Jonah and I realized he had disappeared. Shrugging it off quickly, I turned my attention back to the room. There wasn't much to look at, a small white framed bed with a lacy looking snow colored blanked drawn over it, a matching white dresser with a thin layer of dust coating it, and then the covered mirror that hung on the back of the closet.
Slowly I walked over to the mirror, reaching out to uncover it. Chills dashed down my spine and through my arms, making small bumps appear. My breath seemed louder than before, getting deeper as I reached out closer to the mirror. In one swift movement, I uncovered the hidden mirror, throwing the large sheet to the side. Other than seeing only my reflection, I gasped, spinning around.
"Is everything ok?" Jonah's wary voice asked from the doorway.
I let out a deep pant, "You scared me."
"I apologize. I didn't mean to sneak up on you." He stood still in the entryway.
"You…you can come in you know," I mumbled, seeing that he wasn't going to move any closer.
He took a step inside, his eyes darting around a little before linking them with mine again.
Those chills spilled throughout my body again.
"How long have you lived here?" I asked, choking slightly on my words.
"My whole life," he informed, showing no emotion other than caution in his voice.
I sat on my bed and pulled my knees to my chest, "Sit."
He did as he was told. I stared at him for a moment before he realized and looked back.
"Yes?" he asked.
I felt my face flush, "Sorry."
We sat quietly for a few moments before I felt obligated to talk, "Do you go to school?"
"I'm homeschooled by my dad." He toyed with his hands. "I have never been to a real school before."
Was that why he was so awkward?
The way he was acting didn't faze me too much like it would to most others who would perceive him as different, or strange.
"I normally go to a public high school. But we're on summer vacation now."
"Are there other kids there?"
I scrunched my eyebrows slightly, "Yeah, lots of them."
His eyes hadn't left mine yet, making me constantly twitch slightly.
"I don't know any other kids," he told me.
"You don't have any friends?" I asked.
I wasn't too sure what to say to that. So I looked around the room once more, breaking his stare.
"You don't like it here?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly.
"It's not that I don't like it. It's just," I searched for the right words. "I just feel weird."
That got his attention, "Weird?"
"I don't really know."
Silence fell upon us again and we listened to footsteps coming up the staircase. A few moments later, my mom appeared in the doorway, smiling her famous fake smile.
"I'm glad you two are getting acquainted. Dr. Aikman said that Jonah hasn't had a friend his own age before."
I looked over to see that Jonah didn't seem embarrassed at all, he just looked around the room, more nervous than before, his mind elsewhere.
Then it happened again except it was different than before. The chills. The ones before when Jonah came over were not alarming, just nerve tingling. But these were making my flesh crawl and my stomach churn.
"Em?" my mom called.
My eyes darted to Jonah who was staring near the mirror, I looked over and choked back a cry.
There was someone standing there, they were like nothing I had seen before. It was a man but at the same time it was just a gruesome dead looking pile of flesh. His skin was blackened, covered in scars which looked like symbols and letters. He had milky white eyes which stared at me blankly.
"EM!" my mom yelled and I panicked, glancing at her with a look of despair.
Her face was normal, "Are you listening to me?"
I looked back near the mirror and there was nothing there.
"I said are you listening to me? Gosh, sometimes I swear there is something the matter with you," she stomped off.
"You saw it," Jonah breathed.
My eyes went back to his, pleading. "What was that?"
"His name was Keith Mardio. He died seven years ago. Now his soul is trapped in this house," he said, barely even a whisper.
"Why did I know that?" I asked, his mouth was still hanging open slightly.