Flipped

1.24

Did I say that it was sunny before? Yeah, no. The sun had disappeared - I don't know when. It was cloudy and dark as we stepped onto the lawn, the dry grass crackling under our feet. The wind had also picked up, clipping at our legs as we walked up to the landing.

"No knocking," Ava said to herself as she led us inside. It was unlocked. We filed inside. To the left, we saw a large living room - TV, couches, and straight ahead a kitchen and table, with stairs going upstairs. "Not ratty. It looks nice."

"Yeah," I shrugged. "It's nice. Hey - are the lights on?"

"I..I think so," Taylor said.

Every single light was on. At first, it looked like someone had stepped out for a few minutes, but then I realized that wasn't it.

The microwave was lit up inside. The stove light was on. And here's the thing - even with the lights on, it was dark. A TV with the contrast thrown a few levels down.

Wait. I'd used that analogy before. Hadn't I?

"Chris, you and me check out upstairs. Ava and Mike can cover the main floor," Taylor said, and we split.

Upstairs we found two rooms and a bathroom. All the doors were ajar. I could just see the end of a bed on the left one. "We should stick together," Taylor said. I nodded and pushed open the door.

The door opened to a bedroom - a little larger than you'd expect, but otherwise blaze. Bed, dresser, closet. Like a hotel room. I started opening the dresser drawers, and Taylor went for the closet.

The top of the dresser was empty. I opened the top drawer. White fruit of the loom briefs and black socks. Classic.

Or wait. Instinctively I'd rummaged through, and found something harder underneath. There were a bunch of books of some kind. I pulled one out. It was a black notebook. No label. It was a handwritten journal, I realized, as I flipped through. No dates, just pages and pages of messy writing. If I focused it could make it out relatively easily, though.

Wait! I stopped flipping as I caught my name. "I'm so proud of Chris," it said. I kept reading.

"I'm so proud of Chris. He came home today really shaken - I could tell that something wasn't right. I asked him if something happened. It took some getting it out of him, but eventually he told me that he'd run into two older guys harassing someone Chris knows from school. I don't think they're even friends. Any case, these guys were older, and Chris actually managed to scare them off. Threw a few punches. Protected this guy. I'm real glad I didn't raise a wimp. Told him to be careful in the future obviously, but I won't be too upset if it happens again. He's a good kid."

A memory came back to me of the conversation. Right - this had happened. I'd forgotten.

This was very clearly my dad's journal - one of many. The photograph wasn't in this book. I set it on the dresser and started opening the other drawers. They were filled with clothes - nothing interesting, as far as I could see.

"You done?" Taylor asked me.

"Yeah, I'm good."

We walked back out into the hallway. There were three more doors, and then an open bathroom on the end. We opened the next door.

Inside was a small room lined with bookshelves. On one side was a black armchair, a small table, and a lamp. A small library.

"I didn't know your dad was such a reader," Taylor said.

"Me neither." Curiosity caught me and I took a closer look. I could see a bunch of classics - Charles Dickens, some Agatha Christie, and even Pride and Prejudice. I shuffled one shelf over and saw some textbooks. Mostly psychology and self-help books.

"Well," I said to Taylor. "I guess my dad loves reading. Who knew?"

She smirked. "Aren't you his son?"

"Don't start."

"Honestly, though, it's kind of impressive. Most people don't have a library in their house. My family just watches TV."

"Yeah, well, don't let this fool you. He left my mom with no warning. He's an assole." As I said it, though, I realized I wasn't totally sure.

"Well, the photo isn't here - or if it is we're sunk. No way to search this whole place." I said. So we backed out into the hallway.

And then the lights turned off.

"Guys! Get down here!" Ava's voice, coming from downstairs.

We bounded down the stairs. Or rather, we bounded down the hall at the top of the stairs, and then did a full stop. It was absolutely pitch black looking down except for a tiny amount of light that came from the sky window overhead. I grabbed my phone and shone my way down - there was no way I was getting a twisted ankle in this place.

Once I reached the bottom I looked around but couldn't see anyone. "Where are you?" Taylor called out. I almost jumped.

"Over here," Ava called out from the darkness beyond the kitchen. We started tiptoeing - why were we tiptoeing? - toward her voice. We pushed past the open living room to our right and then we were moving through the kitchen and dining room, making our way towards what I think I remembered being a wooden sunroom. I knew from glancing at them a few minutes ago that there was nothing strange about the rooms, but now my white light cast strange shadows and I could sense a presence here. A presence that was almost... almost laughing at us.

We stepped into the sunroom. Even here, there was very little light, so that my light didn't really illuminate the room as a whole, but only showed Ava, her face contorted with fear, and Mike, standing next to her, eyes wide. Between them was a mirror. We walked up to Ava, on the left side.

"Look at the mirror," Ava said. I did. It looked like a normal mirror, my light reflecting sideways into it. "Now keep looking."
She moved in front of the mirror. And nothing changed. I could still see black edges and my cell phone light. I couldn't see Ava in the mirror at all. I stepped into the frame beside her. My light I could see. But nothing else. Not me. Not her.

"We're in a ghost house," Mike said, in a very calm, strange voice.

"No," I said slowly, certainty dawning in my mind. "We're the ghosts. We're not supposed to be here."