wakingIt's late.The moonlight pools, sickly, over the walls. A talon of breeze reaches out, curling towards the door. It opens just a fraction, then jams back against the frame.It's no surprise that I can't sleep tonight. Might as well give up.So I do. I slide out of bed and slip across the room, drag open the drawers and pull out some gloves. Ever since I've been here, my hands have been cold.I grab my phone, kick open the door. I don't really know where I'm going, but I need somewhere that's not my room, with all those damp walls and a feel that's strangely heavy.
The Rosabel Curse - Chapter One.Day Three.My bag is laid on the floor like it's dying, clothes spilling out, dripping down, islands on a floorboard sea. My hand reaches out, then pulls back as if the air itself wills against me.Three days, and I haven't unpacked.Three days, and the silence in this house is getting to me, whispering every time there's nothing there, turning shadows into creatures with teeth and scales. Three days since I came here.I've never been here before, of course I haven't. Someone like me would never have a house like this.It doesn't stop it, though. The way that I've seen these rooms before. Drip, Drip.Water breaks me out of my lull as it ar