Kapitel 2: The Haunted Mansion

(From Ella's Perspective)

The ride was going to be boring. If Zoe was with me, we would talk the whole way, she would tell me about the new covers she made. I did not like songs that much, but I would still talk about them with her. People had different passions and opinions. Even if I did not like them, I would still like to hear them talk about their interests.

I did not want to go to school. But there was no choice. Mom would be furious if I skipped school and perched on a high wall, creating my imaginary world.

I paddled faster in the hopes of making it to school on time. No matter how hard I tried, almost every single day I would be late. And I was certain that today would be no exception.

Owen's car passed by, honking to let me know about my misery. I let out a sigh. So this was my life: ignored, despised, boring, and devoid of color. The only thing I desired in my life was to be valuable. But no one seemed to care about me, not even a bit.

There was a forest on the way to school. No one ventured further into the forest, claiming that there was an abandoned house there that was haunted. I never believed in ghosts or spirits. Why would I? There was nothing like that in this world or science would be able to explain them.

No one knew that I would go to that abandoned house at least once a week and walk around the house to clear my mind. The place was noiseless and peaceful, just the kind of places I liked the most.

People said that a monster disguised as a man lived there. Rumors said that the man used to eat dead bodies. His name was Alistair Reginald. The house was basically a mansion, a huge one indeed. Alistair was surely a very rich man. I kind of envied him. Even though he was deemed evil, he lived a life in which everyone feared him. I did not want a life where everybody would fear me. But at least, he was considered as someone where I did not have much of an existence.

As I got near the forest, a voice inside my head told me that maybe I should skip school today and go to the mansion, to clear my head and relax a bit. Besides, I was not going to return home anyway. I was supposed to stay at Zoe's house as Mom and Owen were going on a vacation.

It would not hurt to skip school for a day. Besides, I never missed an A since childhood.

I took a turn into the forest and kept going inside it on the trail. I knew the route pretty perfectly as I had been there more times than I could count. The wind was strong. It brought the scent of wildflowers and fresh leaves.

The wind blew into my eyes, causing them to water. I had to blink them away. I never liked crying. I rarely cried, not even when I was alone, not when my Mom called me insufferable in front of all my family members, not when Owen said that I was ungrateful, and not when Linda called me a feelingless monster. I did not care. There was no point in being sad about the things those horrible people said. All I cared about was being myself.

The mansion came into view. It was huge and very ancient. The light red and brown paint on certain portions of the wall had faded, revealing naked bricks. There were way too many windows in the mansion, far more than usual, but the windows had grilles, unlike modern times. And there was far too little space between the grilles. I wondered if a rat could get through that gap.

The front door was huge, like royalty. It was made of oak. The door was always open. I placed my bike next to the ash tree in front of the mansion. I took my backpack and went inside. Perhaps I would read the song I wrote. I did not like listening to songs, but I could write them. Zoe thought that those were great and asked if she could have them. There was nothing I would do with them, so I did not mind, rather I was eager to give her those. At the very least, they would be useful to her rather than being useless trash to me.

The bag was full of some of my clothes and books and notebooks. I went inside the mansion and closed the door behind me. The living room was grand. There was dust all over the place. Even though I came here a lot, I never bothered to clean the whole place. I would always go to the main bedroom and lay down on the massive bed which was the only place I cleaned in the whole mansion.

I made my way to the main bedroom without bothering to look around. I had looked around the place so many times that I had lost interest to do so anymore.

The bed was very soft. That was why it was my favorite spot in the entire mansion. I threw my backpack on the bed and walked over to the dressing table. I looked as if I had gotten out of a tornado.

My hair was as messy as it could get. I had thrown it up in a loose ponytail without first brushing it that morning. Now my hair was in an even worse condition. My eyes were tired and bulging out of their sockets it seemed. I never slept enough at night. I had homework, but mostly because I did not want to. I loved to watch the moon, the stars shining in the bluish-black sky. Leaning against the window frame, I would try to feel the peacefulness of the night.

I looked even slimmer than before. I knew that I needed to eat properly, but I never did. Every time I would go downstairs to eat, I had to hear all sorts of reasons why I was not perfect. Anyone would lose their appetite hearing those words, especially from their own family.

Mom said I looked like Dad. Well, she did not say it to me, but I heard her telling one of her friends, that I looked a lot like my Dad and I would remind her of my Dad.

Mom had strawberry blonde hair, whereas I had brown hair, which I knew I got from my father. My eyes were honey brown, while Mom's eyes were sapphire.

Linda had been a lot like Mom. Mom met Owen when I was one at a bar. They had been living together since then. Then when I was two and a half years old, Linda was born, the heart of Mom and Owen.

Linda was pretty, like Mom, at least, Linda, Mom, and Owen thought so. I had never seen her as anything other than an evil witch. She had Mom's strawberry blonde hair and sapphire eyes. She was tall like Owen. But I was short, very short, like one hundred and sixty-three centimeters.

The only thing Mom and I had in common was that we both had a pale complexion and were short.

I wanted to fix my hair but thought otherwise. I did not need to fix myself thinking what others would think. I was fine with my look, even if I was messy. I took a deep breath and walked away from the mirror.

I hopped on the bed, feeling the soft mattress under my knees. I was going to take out my notebook where I wrote songs from my backpack when I heard a noise, similar to the rumbling noise that occurs when the burners in a fireplace are dirty.

But no fireplace was supposed to be turned on in the mansion. It was just me here. Besides, the noise was louder than it was supposed to be if it was coming from a fireplace.

What if there was someone else here? What if the person saw me here? To be honest, nothing was going to happen. Because the mansion now had no owner. But what if the person was a criminal, hiding here? I had read in the local newspaper that a murderer had escaped from prison two days ago. He had murdered an elderly couple just because they had witnessed him breaking into a store late at night.

I took a sharp breath and got down the bed as silently as I could. I needed to get out of the mansion. I did not care if I was wrong. The person might be someone else as well. But my life was important to me. I could not risk dying, not when I would graduate the next year.