Strangely enough, I found myself visiting my aunt after graduation. While everyone had parents and friends surrounding them, I politely conversed with professors and teaching assistants. It wasn't unpleasant or nostalgic in any way, but without having any other place to go I thought of returning to the small town I had stayed in for a short period of ti while I was recuperating. Having rented the apartnt fully furnished, I had a normal amount of luggage to carry with when my lease was over. This was another reason why I thought of returning to Town X. I could visit my aunt, whom I spoke to sparingly over the years, without becoming a burden to her.
She was my father's cousin, but a sowhat close one so I was handed over to her when I was declared an orphan. I had rented a small apartnt from aunt's friend for a month and neatly settled in.
Most people in town didn't know who I was because I rarely ventured out during my stay, but so of the imdiate neighbors had rembered , even though it had been eight years already.
One of them was Seth Watson, the boy next door whose bedroom was in front of mine. He had been a year older than and bewildered by the news that aunt had brought a new girl ho. I had overheard whispers on the street about the ghostly entity that haunted the house and quickly realized that the description matched .
Crazy eyes. Skeletal body. Permanent scowl and a mask covering my presumably horrifying place. They hadn't been fully wrong, though, at that point in ti, that is exactly how I had seen myself.
Even a gust of wind could have broken .
Most days my legs ached as I tried to get a look at the sun. It was worse during the rain. I rember that on one sunny day I had seen the neighbor's son looking intently towards my direction. I had drawn the curtains, yet the sheer material let look outside without having to face anyone. He'd had a couple of boys his age accompanying him, all of them staring towards . From there horrified expressions and mumbling among themselves, I knew that they could see my silhouette. But his eyes were different, disbelieving and curious.
The first day he saw was when they ca over for dinner. Unable to withstand human contact, I secretly entered the kitchen to get myself so food. I had to recuperate and I had to do it fast and food was the only way at that point in ti.
I was sustaining myself on foods easily digestible and rich in protein. The doctor was adamant of nourishing my body and helping rebuild the muscles that had decayed over the seven months of captivity. They said it was a miracle that I could use my legs properly after not having used it for so long. Hence, my diet was different than the one of those sitting in the dining area and I expected none of them to venture out to the kitchen. But the brave Seth Watson ventured out, despite the rumors of poltergeist hauntings, to fetch himself a glass of water. He was familiar with the house but was struck with a bout of fright when we ca face to face.
The initial panic was replaced by resolution, one that he continued to hold until I left town. It was not a surprise to that he would join the police force and work hard to be transferred to the violent cris departnt as soon as he was.
We had a silent camaraderie. He spoke too much, probably out of consideration of my condition, and I indulged in feeling more normal by being near him. He had no effect in my recovery, but even his sympathy made feel like there was hope of remaining a human and overcoming my tragedy.
I saw him at the local supermarket the second day I was in town. Despite how picturesque it was, a handful of tourists would end up in the area, therefore most people buying groceries had either been living for a long ti or just moving in. I recognized him almost instantly, he was taller sohow and way bulkier than I rembered. He didn't recognize , though. I was still short, but I looked nothing like my sixteen-seventeen-year old self. Therefore I kept to myself and didn't introduce myself. Nothing good ever ca of small talk and reconnection, anyway.
He glanced at quite a few tis, but I was sure it was out of general curiosity and nothing else.
Three days into vacation I received a call from Professor Singh, soone whom I had not spoken to since the conference in Seoul. When I picked up the phone I was pleasantly surprised that he had been asking about to my departntal professors before being sure and calling himself. He told that his colleague needed a translator for so of his seminar transcripts and that I would be paid handsoly. It was appealing but he demanded that I had to travel to his actions house and work there for the duration of my employnt. It was a nuisance and I understood that academic papers were a sensitive matter especially to those dealing with confidential cases but I was just visiting and not ready to leave.
"Professor," I began to protest, but he cut off.
"I was told that you are in Town X at the mont and free, please Miss Lewis he is staying there himself at the mont and really needs the help." I was taken aback by the information, but not surprised that he had found out.
"Could you give his contact details? I will speak to him personally to get more information about the task." He seed amicable with the idea and sent over the details.
Sebastian Butler. Associate Professor of Criminal Psychology.
I quickly called the number but it rang through. When I ca back to check my cell phone there was a ssage lighting up the screen.
'Identify yourself, it said.'
'Dr. Singh asked to contact you.'
The phone chirped again. This ti he had sent an address and the ti at which I was supposed to head over. He also ntioned that he would interview .
Reasonable.
It was indeed an urgent matter because the ti he had asked to go over was in a couple of hours. With nothing much to do anyway, I headed out and searched for the place. Funnily enough, it was the only place in town which was deed haunted apart from my aunt's. It was a villa located at the outskirts of town, hidden in the forest. It was Victorianesque in style and obviously renovated to accommodate its owner.
It was quite a hike from the main road to the villa, but the path was substantially grood and looked ridiculously beautiful. Despite the looks I had received when asked for directions, it seed that the house looked nothing like the dilapidated death trap the man at the pharmacy depicted.
I rang the bell and waited for the door to open. I checked my watch and I was a little ahead of ti, but when two minutes passed without anyone opening the door, I was tempted to ring the bell again.
Suddenly, I rembered how Dr. Butler had ignored my call and texted instead. Realizing that it was a quirk of his, I quickly pulled out my phone and sent him a ssage saying that I had arrived. Within monts I heard the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. After the clicking sound, the door opened and revealed a man with very happy features, sowhat unlike I had imagined Mr. Butler to appear. Knowing better than to judge him by his appearance, I politely smiled at him.
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