#85 - Topaz - My House - Dawnofme - Original

[dawnofme.livejournal.com]

Title:  My House
Author:  dawnofme
Fandom:  None/Original
Prompt:  Topaz
Rating:  15
Summary:  The house on Topaz Street was the first thing to pop into my mind when I saw the prompt.  This is very loosely based on a true story. 



a/n:  I'm very embarrassed to even post this little "thing" on here, but I want to keep racking up those weeks.  I have a lot going on and won't have time to do anything else.  I detest first person POV.  I rarely ever read it and I'm not sure I can pull off writing it.  LOL!  I won't be surprised if I get below 7's for this one. 


Who am I?  I’m the ghost on Topaz Street.  Well, that’s what I’ve heard them call me.  I don’t actually go floating around the street, and if we are trying to be exact - which we are - then I’m the ghost from 3254 Topaz Street. 

Am I some ancient ghost of a famous person from long ago, you ask?  Nope.  Not even close.  I haunt a house that sits high on a hill in the “upper crust” part of town.  It’s a newer home and I’m only on my second set of residents now.  These people are boring and I often wish the old owners would move back. 

I can’t get these people spooked for the life of me.  Believe you me, I’ve tried.  The biggest problem is that they aren’t home very often.  They leave the TV on, so I spend most of my time in the living room.  They have a teenage son who plays at least one sport per season, and man, does his room stink.

When they first moved in, they hired Merry Maids to come in once a week.  Oh, what fun I had then.  It was the highlight of my week.  Every ghost knows that you start off slow.  Move the curtains and they might just think it’s the wind, even if the window is closed.  Blow in their ear or turn the water on when their back is turned, the possibilities are endless.  They don’t come back anymore and it’s boredomville for me. 

I was so excited when the son came home from school, when they first moved here two years ago, and told his parents over dinner that people said the house was haunted.  His parents just shrugged and went back to quickly shoveling in the food before they rushed out the door again.

I think things would have been more interesting if a girl lived here.  Girls are so much easier to scare.  Now, don’t you go accusing me of sexism.  Oh, go ahead.  I don’t care.  Girls are easier to scare and that is all there is to it. 

The last family had two boys.  The younger one was the funniest of that bunch.  I giggle when I think of the times I spooked that boy.  He’s the only one who ever gave me the time of day.  Although, some of the things he blamed me for were quite funny.  He insisted that I was a young girl with glasses.  I am no such thing.  He would bring his friends over and turn the lights off and they’d ask me to show myself.  I just loved to make him look stupid. 

The older boy was harder to spook and strange as it sounds, he was more afraid as he became a man.  He moved back home when he was in his mid-twenties and soon after he met a girl.  The first time she came to the house, the proverbial hairs on the back of the neck stood on end.  She was one of those sensitive ones.  I didn’t stick around that night and retreated to a back room after she slowly took in the surroundings and focused her attention right on the corner where I was sitting on a table.

Kelly was a frequent guest at the house and after weeks of hiding, I began to feel stupid.  This was my house, wasn’t it?  So I started to make myself known.  Starting out slow, I played a trick here and there.  The night she finally told the older boy that she thought the place was haunted was a fun night.  They were the only two at home and as they lay making out on his bed, I stood by the gaudy looking lamp on the end table and caused the lights to flicker on and off.  They were so in to each other that they barely took notice, so I upped the stakes and shut the lights down in the room completely. 

When Kelly sat up and practically growled out the command to turn the lights back on, I found myself rushing to do her bidding.  That made me angry.  She couldn’t just do that.  So I flickered the lights again and watched the older boy stare at his new girl like she was mad.  Oh, that was fun.  Of course, I couldn’t just leave it like that, so I turned the lights off again. 

Who knew that a sensitive could be afraid of the dark?  They fumbled around trying to get the lights on again, but I’d forced the flow of electricity to stop.  When they left the room, I followed and the light went back on.  It was then that she told him of her unwelcome ability to sense “ghosts”.

That was a fun conversation to listen to.  The boy told her how his younger brother had always insisted there was a ghost.  She confirmed it and said there was nothing to worry about.  I was harmless. 

Harmless!  I’m a ghost!  I’m not harmless.  I scare the pants off of people.  Only trouble was, she didn’t come around that often after that point.  The older boy continued to see her and eventually, they got married.  They just didn’t spend much time in my house.  I don’t know why as he never talked about me with his brother or his parents.

I’d see her on some holidays, but I tried to stay quiet and just observe.  She knew I was there: her glare in my direction said it all.  It was obvious that she didn’t have the sight though, because she never laughed when I made faces at her. 

The parents began to talk of money troubles and little by little they began moving stuff out of the house.  I was sure that I wouldn’t see Kelly ever again, but one day they just showed up.  They stayed until night time and as they said their goodbyes, I made myself known, one last time.  I caused myself to go dark after I floated slowly over the woman of the house and made my way to the bathroom.  The look on Kelly’s face had me jumping up and down for joy, but I was disappointed  to find out that she said nothing to the owners.  That was the last time I saw her.

The oldest son came by one last time.  His parents were away on a trip and the cats needed to be fed.  He came at night, going quickly to the food dishes and turning on every light in his path.  He was spooked and I sat back quietly, watching him with great satisfaction.  A person’s imagination can do more to scare them then I ever could.

So now, here I stay, in a state of boredom with no end in sight.  I could leave, you say?  Not on your life.  This is my house.  I chose it.  It’s on a prime piece of land and I’ll bide my time, thank you.  One day, I’ll get new owners.  Ones with little girls who see things more clearly.  The type who hide under their covers at night.  Then the real fun will began.

Who was I, you ask?  Do you think I’m going to tell you?  Heck, no.  But if you really want to know, this place is up for sale again.  We’re the middle house with the tall brick mail box and a wrought iron gate.  We’ve a lovely pool.  The plumbing gives us trouble sometimes, but the kitchen is big.  3254 Topaz Street in Southern California.  If you move here, you just might get to know me.