The place was busy, considering the size of the town. At least a dozen people were standing on the sidewalks. They were all staring at us as we walked past.
They gave me the creeps. Even when I stared back at them they didn't look away, just openly gaping at us. All the hair stood up on the back of my neck. I was covered in goosebumps and it was summer.
I tugged on Bea's hand so she walked faster again. "Want an ice cream?" I asked.
"Yeah, ice cream!" If she noticed all the weird townspeople, she didn't let it scare her like it did me.
One of the few stores open was a small supermarket. I put my head down and made a beeline for the door. It was only a few yards away but it seemed much further.
At least the single checkout operator didn't stare at us. She looked up from the magazine she was reading and then went back to it. They also had air conditioning, which was another huge bonus.
Bea took her time in choosing the perfect ice cream, which was fine by me. I grabbed a chocolate flavored one and was done with it.
The supermarket was quite well stocked for being in such a small town. I'd never lived anywhere so under populated before so I didn't have a comparison but it seemed good to me.
Bea finally chose - vanilla, of all the flavors - and we went to pay for them. The checkout chick was about my age and she seemed friendly enough. As soon I paid, Bea took her ice cream outside to eat.
I hung back. "So is there anything to do around here? My family just moved in yesterday."
"Not really. Some people go swimming at the creek, which is fun. It's a little hard to find though unless you know your way around."
"Swimming sounds good in all this heat."
"Yeah, Buttercup Bay is like an oven in summertime. It messes with my hair like nobody's business." She tugged at her strawberry blond hair. It looked fine to me. "Where did you say you lived?"
"I didn't. We moved into the house at the end of Sunflower Road."
"That house?" Her eyes grew wide. "Nobody's lived there for a long time."
"Why's that?"
"There's a lot of history with that house. It's been vacant for as long as I can remember."
"Why? Did something happen there?" I was starting to get that creepy feeling again, making all my hair stand on end.
She shook her head. "It's not for me to say. Nobody should talk about the devil."
"The devil?" My voice was about as high as a screechy bird.
Her face relaxed into a polite smile. "Have a nice day. Welcome to Buttercup Bay."
I eyed her suspiciously but she never faltered. I picked up my ice cream. "Thanks. I guess I'll see you around." She watched me leave, every step I took.
Something weird was going on in Buttercup Bay and I got the horrible feeling in my gut that I'd only touched the tip of the iceberg.
When I joined Bea outside, people were staring at her. She was completely oblivious to them all as she ate happily. I sat next to her on the curb and tried to do the same thing.
What was their problem? Staring back at them didn't work, neither did making a face. They continued to stare without flinching.
Even with all the people looking, we took our time going home. I wanted to ensure we gave our parents enough time to beat us. There was no way I wanted to be in that house alone anymore.
When I saw our car parked out the front, I knew it was safe to return. Mom was on the porch, she ran for us when she saw our approach.
Sweeping us both into a hug, she said, "I've been worried sick. Where did you go? You didn't leave a note or anything."
"Sorry, Mom. We went to look around and got an ice cream," I replied.
Relief washed over her. "Make sure you send me a text or something next time, okay? Save my heart from having an attack. Come in and I'll make you some lunch."
Mom and Dad never said where they went, avoiding the subject when I brought it up. We ate sandwiches together but I still couldn't relax. There was something going on in this house and it put me on edge.
I could barely stand being inside. As soon as lunch was finished I went outside again, riding my bike around in circles on the driveway.
Eyes were on me. They drilled into my back and sent goosebumps prickling down my arms. The girl was watching from the second-floor window. The faint outline of her body could be seen in the shadows when I looked up.
She was always watching me.
"Hey, the new girl," a boy's voice startled me as I whipped around to face him.
There were a half dozen kids staring at me. For once, all of them were real. They ranged in ages from about ten upwards to sixteen. Judging by their tanned faces and carefree attitudes, they were all locals.
And not being haunted by a little girl.
The boy continued. "We're going to the hole to swim. Wanna come with?"
Being anywhere other than the house was a good option. Add in some cool water swimming and I would be in heaven. "Sure, I'll just grab my suit."
They waited for me while I ran inside and yelled my intended whereabouts to my parents. My dad replied so at least one of them heard me.
There were no signs of the girl when I hurried through my room. I grabbed my swimsuit from a box still to be unpacked and remembered to pick up a towel on my way out.
The moment I hopped on my bike, we were off.
The swimming hole was a small lake, barely bigger than my house. It had huge trees overhanging the water, making their branches perfectly designed for swinging from.
Feeling the cool water was a relief from the humid heat that scorched the air. I swam until I was refreshingly cold and then headed for the bank where some of the others had stretched out on towels.
I lay my blue towel on the grass, close enough so that my feet could still dangle in the water. The trees provided shade from the burning sun.
The girl with ginger hair beside me squinted to look at me. "You live in the Sunflower Road house, right?"
I nodded. "Yeah, we just moved in yesterday."
"Are you brave or just stupid?"
"Excuse me?"
She flipped over and rested her chin in her hands, still looking at me intently. "Why'd you choose that house to move into?"
"My parents found it on the internet, I guess. I don't really know. Why?"
"Nobody's lived there since the Carlsons. Nobody has been game enough to stay longer than one night."
* * *
My skin had that prickling tingly feeling all over. "Why won't people stay in the house?" I asked. I was almost too worried to find out. Maybe I didn't want to know what was wrong with my new house.
The young girl on my other side sat up quickly. "You shouldn't be telling that story, Sadie. You'll freak the girl out and she'll be too scared to go home."
Sadie - the ginger-haired girl, apparently - shrugged. "She has a right to know. I'd want to know if someone was murdered in my house."
"Wait, someone was murdered in my home?" My voice took on that screechy tone that I always used when I was about to freak out. The other girl was right.
The younger girl nodded with wide eyes while Sadie continued in her matter-of-fact voice. "Not just one person, but a whole family. Mom, Dad, and two daughters. They went to bed that night and never woke up again. They'd only lived in the house for a few weeks."
I gulped. The story was too much like my own family to throw away as just a ploy to scare the new girl. I knew the house didn't feel right, but I thought it was because of the little girl.
Maybe she had helpers now.
"How were they killed?" I crossed my fingers, hoping it was a peaceful gas leak or something.
"Their heads were all hacked off," Sadie said, slipping into storytelling mode. "They say late at night you can still hear them walking around, looking for their heads. They drag their feet and bump into things because they can't see. The moment they find somebody, they try to pull off their head so they can use it as their own."
"Sadie!" the other girl scolded. "You sho
uldn't be talking about the ghosts. They'll come for you. My grandmamma always says the dead only have power if you talk about them. It calls them back."
The story Sadie was spinning could have been an urban legend, or something the kids said to the new kid to see what she was made of. I wished it was that, but I got the feeling there was more truth to the story than fiction.
I'd heard the dragging feet.
It wasn't hard to believe the story was true. Not when I'd heard and seen things in the house that might not all be attributable to the little girl. Maybe she'd finally met her match.
I swallowed down the fear and tried to keep my voice level. "How long ago were they murdered?"
"About ten years, I think. Everyone knows the story, that house is a legend around here. Kids break into it every Halloween, daring one another to stay in the rooms alone."
"Did they find the killer? The one who cut off their heads?"
"Nope. They say he's still out there, taking heads and keeping them in his basement as a reminder. He could be anyone and anywhere."
"But it's only a story, right? Nobody has actually seen the ghosts?"
"I've seen them," the girl said in a small voice. She instantly captured all of our attention. "When it's a full moon, they come to the windows like they are waiting for something."
"I have, too," a boy beside Sadie said suddenly, sitting up on his orange towel. "Heaps of times. They stand in the windows and look out as if they still had heads. All you can see are the bloody stumps of their necks. It's really gross."
I listened as more and more kids added their sightings to the list. My head was spinning by the time they changed the subject. I needed to get home and warn my parents.
We needed to move again.
I packed up my towel and threw apologies at the kids, claiming I had a ridiculously early curfew to meet. My bike didn't peddle fast enough as I whizzed through the lonely streets of the small town.
By the time I arrived home and left my bike on the lawn, I was puffing. Nobody was in the first level of the house. I took the stairs two at a time and stopped in the middle of the hallway.
My parents were talking in their bedroom, the dull thud of furniture moving sometimes covered their voices. I froze as I listened to their conversation.
"At least we have a new start now," Mom said.
"I hope it's the last one," Dad replied. "Our savings are almost gone. Moving isn't cheap."
"I like it here, I have a feeling it's all going to work out. Once we find jobs we'll be able to build up the savings account again."
Dad sighed and they moved another piece of furniture. I couldn't go in there and tell them what I'd learned about the house. I just couldn't. They would both look at me with disappointment in their eyes, even though they would try to hide it.
Every time we moved it took something away from us. Money, opportunity, friends, everything. If we ran away now the whole thing would start over again.
It had only been two days here, maybe we could stick it out a while longer. All I needed to do was keep the little girl under control. Maybe she would be able to deal with anything else that happened in the house from the murdered family.
I turned and changed course for my bedroom. The minute I opened the door I knew the little girl was around. Everything was icy cool even in the blazing heat of summer. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
Warily, I walked to my bed and sat down.
Waiting.
She was there. I just needed to wait for her to show me her form.
I was tired of waiting. "I know you're here. You don't scare me anymore."
The air rippled in front of me before her body took form, almost like she was made from the atmosphere and not the body of a dead child.
I lied about her not scaring me anymore. She terrified me. The little girl, in her perfect white dress, wasn't scary to look at. It was more the feeling she gave me. A feeling of evil.
Her eyes were hollows but it felt like she could see everything I did. Her hands always remained at her sides but I knew they could strangle me if she wanted to. Her feet hovered above the ground, making her glide instead of walk.
A smell like rotten peaches filled my nostrils, the same stench she always brought with her. It choked me, even when my hand covered my nose and mouth.
"You have to leave me alone," I told her. She continued to float in front of me, oblivious to my pleading. "Please, I don't want you here. We have to stay, we can't keep running. Please leave me alone."
She shook her head side to side slowly, giving me the answer I expected. She would never leave me alone, no matter where we ran, no matter how many times we moved. She would follow me forever.
"What do you want? Why are you still here?" I asked, my breath hitching in my throat. "Why won't you leave me alone?"
"I've got help now," she replied.
That was the first time the little girl had ever spoken to me. She smiled and giggled, like my terror and fear were just one big joke to her.
I couldn't take it anymore. I ran from the room, doing anything I could to put some distance between me and her. There was only so much evil I could handle at one time. She'd reached her quota for today.
Stumbling down the hallway, all I could think of was reaching my parents. The little girl was following me, still giggling.
By the time I reached my parents' room I was breathless and shaking with absolute terror. They both turned to look at me as I rushed for them, concern written in each one of their features.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Mom said, reaching for me and wrapping me up into a hug. Over her shoulder I could still see her. Her laughter had died down as she returned to her usual staring.
"Can you see her?" I asked, pointing at the doorway where the little girl stood. She held up her hand to point back at me. "She's right there. Please tell me you can see her."
Mom and Dad both looked at the doorway before exchanging a glance. Dad stepped closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. "There's nothing there, sweetheart. You have to remember that."
My head was shaking like it had a mind of its own, my voice lost in frustration. Nobody had ever been able to see her before, not in any of the houses we'd lived in. She was as plain as day to me, almost as real as a living human but with a shimmery glow around her form.
"Come on, Pen. Let's make a start on dinner. We can have pancakes tonight, you love pancakes," Mom soothed. I wished I could have taken some comfort from her but there was no way I could.
The little girl was real.
They had to believe me before it was too late.
* * *
Dad sat with me in my room while I fell asleep that night. He promised he would only leave once I was sleeping peacefully. It was the only way I could possibly stay in my room.
I must have fallen asleep at some stage because I was awoken with a start hours later. My alarm clock had just ticked over to midnight.
Midnight. Otherwise known as the Witching Hour.
My room was completely dark except for a single moonbeam casting a shadow on the floor. The full moon sat stubbornly in the sky. I sat up quickly as I realized what had pulled me from my dreams.
Noises were coming from outside my room. Someone else in the house was making a racket, loud enough to cut my sleep short.
They were the usual sounds I was accustomed to. Something rattled, something else banged. My parents never made that much noise in the middle of the night and Bea should have been tucked up in bed.
The room was freezing cold even though it was the middle of summer. I pushed back the blankets that I'd pulled over myself in my sleep and stood. The wooden floorboards made my feet tingle with the sudden cold.
I crept over to the door and opened it slowly, my eyes constantly scanning for the little girl. I couldn't see her but that didn't always mean she wasn't there.
The hallway outside was dark but I could still hear the banging noises. Going back to bed and ignoring it wasn't
an option. There was no way I would be able to sleep now.
Each step I took down the stairs was tentative and careful. I prayed I was wrong and I would find my parents putting up family pictures or rearranging furniture. Maybe they had a serious case of insomnia and couldn't sleep.
The light in the living room was on, spilling its orange glow into the foyer. Shadows moved in the light, it had to be my parents. I was getting all worked up for nothing.
I rounded the corner.
And froze.
It wasn't my parents in the living room. Sitting on the couch were four skeletons, two larger and two smaller. Pieces of skin were hanging off their bones, their ribs just black hollows.
They had no heads.
And they were alive.
The skeletons moved, their bones shifting and turning like any living human would. The loose and decomposed skin stretched and contorted with their movements.
They were watching television. At least they would have been if they had heads. The screen was nothing but static, flickering grey and white and emitting an unnatural sharp hum.
The four turned their bodies from the television to me, the bloody stumps of their necks oozing black liquid. I'd never seen anything more terrifying before.
It took a moment for me to realize the scream I was hearing was coming from me. I backed away from the living room and bolted up the stairs. I needed my parents, I needed them to see what was going on. Even if they couldn't see the little girl, I was certain they would be able to see the grotesque skeletons.
I took the stairs two at a time, never moving faster before in my life. I rounded the top banister and sprinted toward my parents' room.
Bursting through the doors, I had to catch my breath before I said anything. "Wake up-". The words died on my lips.
Their bed was empty.
I checked the bathroom, then the closet, and then under the bed, just to make sure. They weren't anywhere. I ran for Bea's room, hoping the three of them were all in there and safe. I would worry about their concern and disappointment in me later. Right now, I had to find them.
Bea's room was empty. I checked her closet too, making sure they weren't all playing some kind of horrible trick on me.
"What are you going to do now?" The too-high pitched voice of the little girl made me snap around to face her. She glowed brighter now, as if somehow strengthened. My skin broke out in goosebumps.