𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜

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I am Magnolia Crover. On this outside, I probably seem like your average nerd. Lots of quirks and an awkward small build. Perfect target for the jocks. Because for some reason those who actually want to do something with their life have to suffer through the idiots who were too cool to care about school. But truly, there's something about me that's different. I'm strange and unusual, like Lydia Deetz. I can't tell anyone, I'd be considered insane. Anybody that asks, I'll just blame it on maladaptive daydreaming. But even that makes me sound crazy.

Ever since we moved to Hartsville, South Carolina two months ago, everything changed. It was more than just a move across the country, there was something eerie about the new house. And not your stereotypical "Oooh, this old house looks so dilapidated, it's definitely haunted!" No, it looked like your perfectly normal, quaint, small town, southern house. Sure, the interior decorations were a little dated, but that didn't mean anything. The previous owners left it in great condition, and there weren't even that many bugs considering how long it had been uninhabited. In fact nothing was wrong until two weeks after we settled. After two weeks, things started happening. Sinister things. Things that chilled your blood to the bone. But dad seemed fine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with him.

I never wanted to move. Mom was back home.

Well, her corpse.

Of course I had pictures of her headstone, but it wasn't the same as going to the graveyard, pressing myself up against the stone, and watering her resting place with my plentiful salty tears. It was my fault. It was all my fault. 

I don't think my dad blamed me for her unfortunate accident. But ever since, he'd become a lot more distant. I'm hoping he's just in mourning, but we've never talked about it.

He told me he moved for a job, but I don't think it's only that. Maybe his wife's death is plaguing him, and he needed to get away from the memories. Maybe he didn't want anything to remind him of her. Maybe. But I don't know. And I don't care to know.

But that doesn't mean I don't miss her. I miss her every day. But now we're on the other side of the country, and it doesn't look like we'll be back anytime soon.

But... I guess I've found something to distract me from constantly thinking about her since we've gotten here. It's a little out of the ordinary, sure, but it's something. 

I am Magnolia Crover. 

And I can see ghosts.