[ hi ] h.s.

▒Chapter Two▒

▒Chapter Two▒

After helping to rid the pristine mahogany dinner table of empty plates and glasses, my Grandpa asked me if I would mind going up to the attic to leave a box up there as his back was sore from heaving furniture around all day. I politely agree and begin up the stairs not thinking too deeply about being alone in an attic again.

The room the attic connects to is the smaller room beside mine. I push open the door with my elbows and scan the ceiling for the string. It's, as expected, in the center of the room. I tug on it and the ladder falls down from the latch causing me to jump back. Dust cascades the air in a plume resulting in me coughing and 'gracefully' swotting my hand in front of my hand in an attempt to breathe again and clear my airways of the ichy air particles.

I can already feel the chill from the attic zoom down my spine and so I zip up my light-wash hoodie. I switch on my orange flashlight, grasping it between my teeth as I grab ahold of the cardboard box, begining to make my way up the wooden stepladder.

It creaks with every step, almost as if it is warning me to stay away.

The room is dark, dreary and feels extremely cold on entering. It's mid-september so its cool outside but much milder in comparison to the coldness i'm experiencing now. The room as a whole almost has an...eerie feeling to it. I settle on the fact that there must be lack of insulation up here or that there is a hole in the roof hidden behind a wooden beam.

I set the box down and take the flashlight from my teeth, setting it down on a pile of old, canvas that look absolutley ancient. Unused, but old. I might actually use them sometime if I decide i'm feeling up to it.

Strands of light from the flashlight are clearly visible due to immense ammount of dust particles in the air and my curiously gets the better of me as my eyes scan the dim-lit space.

I walk to the center of the room and feel uneasy there for some reason. I feel uncomfortable and sick as I stand there. My skin tingles and it most certainally seems to be colder here than anywhere else in the room. I release a breath, ice cloud of air escaping my parted lips as I feel my teeth begin to chitter-chatter. I rub my left hand up my right arm before proceeding to walk towards the only window in the room to examine the country view.

The window pane is dampened with moisture and the glass looks delicate and original, I conclude that it must be authentic from when the house was built - or at least extremely old. The glass is steamed up from my presence so I wipe away the waterbeads that have collected there with the sleeve of my hoodie.

The sky is dark and unfortunately, my view of the moon is obstructed by a canopy of thick cloud. Ever since I was a little girl I've had a complete fascination with the moon. I'm not sure why exactly but it's just so beautiful and bright, something that shouldn't be ignored in my eyes. I think, in all honesty, some people ignore it or don't think much of it and that saddens me in a way.

Ignored beauty is such a shame.

I'm tore away from my thoughts when I suddenly hear a click from the center of the room, darkness swallowing my sight.

I rush to the pile of plain canvas', finding it with slight difficulty before re-switching on my 'trusty' torch.

"What in the world?" I rehtorically whisper to myself.

I definitely had this thing on, I obviously I did.

Faulty, I conclude to myself.

It's an old torch and the batteries must need replacing or something.

I set the light back on the parchment and make my way over to the window again.

It's steamed up again and just as I'm about to wipe away the droplets with my sleeve until I see two little letters scribbled on top of the moisture. They are small and neat.

My breath hitches in my throat and I feel fear surge through my veins.

"Is someone here?" I ask shakily, my eyes travelling from corner to corner in the room.

I look back to the window, the word still there.

'hi' it reads simply.

I shake my head whilst backing away from the window. I hastily grab my orange flashlight by the black handle and go down the ladder.

I turn the torch off and push the ladder back up in a rush, shutting the ceiling hatch with a bang.

I rush out of the small spare room before knocking into something.

"Oh!" I yelp in surpirse. It's only my grandmother.

"Honey, you look like you've seen a ghost!" She jokes and I shakily force out a laugh to match hers, failing obviously.

"Was Grandpa up in the attic a few minutes ago?" I queerie, my heartrate still pounding at a dramatic rate.

She shakes her head, "No dear, he's in the basement putting away some of his tools or something. That man, can't even go to bed without his toolbox organised. He's quite the-" she cuts of obviously noticing my horrified expression.

Who wrote that on the window?

"Honey, are you alright?" She asks, concern wavering through her tone.

"You weren't in the attic either? Right?" I ask, my voice surpising strong however rushed.

"I was making some tea", she states gesturing down to the lilac china cup, steam ascending in patterns from the surface of the hot liquid.

"Is something wrong?" She presses and I just shake my head slowly as a response.

"I think I need some sleep" I sigh.

My grandmother pulls me in for a hug before we both say our goodnights.

I find falling asleep to be a challenge and so take to my journal to scribble my thoughts, I feel a release of pressure as my pen glides over the paper, each word lifting a weight off my shoulders.

Somehow, not without difficulty I finally fall asleep, the word, 'hi', haunting my slumber.

▒Author's note:▒

oh so the creepy shit begins muwahahahaha

lol

idk

im sorry

not sure what I think of think chapter tbh but at least we have some spooky action

- em