#fellas is it normal to get so angry about your hands being uncomfortably cold that you get distracted for 20 minutes writing a tumblr post

[babsaros]

im literally wearing two shirts, two pairs of gloves, a blanket, and i'm sitting with a heating pad, and it's still FUCKING FDR$EEZINGS SIOFHIUFVDKJUYAHSDCV ASZVF

[reversecreek]

✵ zloane , bravier , nyla and sean

ZIGGY & SLOANE

their first impression of your muse:

sexy. tugged on her hair literally the first time he saw her hadn’t even had a conversation bt was just like target? located. going? ✈️ annoy her. probably initially just thought she was only at the skate park bc sean was n was like 🙄 then she cld actually skate n he was like 😏 liked that she gave him shit. found it funny pushing her buttons. liked her eyes. probably was like wtf is in the fuckin water in this town yo why all my friends got hot sisters that shit aint right tryna make me a dog....... not that he was even. phased by betraying those boundaries bt. still. i won’t lie his main first impression was probably jst damn bit hot when she glares at me like that. KJHFSGKSJHGKGHSFKGH

current impression:  

knows her a little more than he likes to know people. favourite person to argue w. can possibly skate better than him bt if she said so he’d be like “ur off ur fuckin tits man” n then practice secretly on his own for hours that night n get 9457295 scrapes. doesn’t like talking abt her dad like him so one time he put a firework in his mailbox n never admitted it was him. has reactions to youtube videos tht make him snort. quite funny in general rly. drinks a lot not that he can judge it’s just sometimes he notices n once he even snatched her cup n drank the rest so she couldn’t. played it off as their typical fuckery bt he isn’t sure what that feeling was. hasn’t been concerned often enough to know it by name. finds her hot at inappropriate moments like when a movie chara’s dying n he’s meant to be sad. finds her hot when she pisses him off too. thinks mayb she likes the excuse to hold onto him when she rides on his vespa but he kind of likes it too so he’s not about to call it out bc “he isn’t about that deep shit”. 

are they attracted to your muse?:  

KFJHGKJGHFGKFHSGKSHGKSFGH. imagine i was jst like no <3... yes. he likes to act like he’s less so than he is bt it’s obvious.

something they find frightening about your muse:

i wouldn’t say it frightens him bt sometimes he catches her looking at him a certain way n it unsettles him but he doesn’t know why. usually just pretends he didn’t catch it.

something they find adorable about your muse:  

he likes her short hair he’s always ruffling it n tugging on it. whenever she hs bumps n scrapes n bruises from falling off her board n getting back on over n over again jst never giving up or giving a fk. when she acts like she isn’t jealous.

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  

umm. no. he’s an asshole. KGJSHFKGHSKFHGSKFGHKGH. sighs.

would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  

no..... sees that as dangerous territory wouldn’t wna blur the lines. looks away.

one word my muse would use to describe yours:  

baddie. FKGJHSKGHFGSFHGSKGHSFKHG. demonic (when they’ve had a fight). 

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no. he loves to argue w her but it never feels that Real u know... more like flirting. even when they’re rly pissed off. wld never enter that territory he hates shit like tht w a passion. cue round of applause from the audience for this absolutely low bar.

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

i feel like they’re not rly huggy people...... ziggy probably puts his arm around her a lot tho he loves doing that. hs kissed her more times than he can count too n doesn’t plan on stopping

BRADLEY & XAVIER

their first impression of your muse:

funny. mean in a more digestible way than she was used to. he had barbs n she liked the way people winced when they tried to swallow his company. when she got paired w him for a class project she met his eyes across the room n he didn’t quickly look away like most ppl. something abt that intrigued her. a sharp fingernail inside her head kept having to itch at something n she realised it was the urge for him to call her a bad name. this weird craving to hear an angry word inside his mouth just for her. she used to think that’s what someone wanting her was like. still does sometimes. this both pissed her off n caught her attention which is a bit of an accomplishment fr someone who gets bored by everyone n everything.

current impression:  

his heart’s more good than she expected. it felt a bit like having a cat drop a dead mouse at ur doorstep that u don’t know what to do with when she realised that. she felt uncomfortably like her mother when she couldn’t get out of his bed bc she was too depressed n that rly made her feel like. ill honestly. he did all the right things but suddenly she just felt sick abt the whole situation which is Not the normal reaction to ur bf caring about u but bradley doesn’t understand ppl caring abt her. felt more like pity. she thinks he’s better off. she misses him sometimes bt then she reminds herself she doesn’t miss people. does a good job of believing it. one of the best ppl she’s dated not that she’d say it.

are they attracted to your muse?:  

yes..... ws probably. unhinged n rabid when they were dating. very good at hiding it now however. cold at the drop of a hat.

something they find frightening about your muse:

that he witnessed her being vulnerable............ literally grosses her out so much like she’d rather die than. anyone see her like that. when they were dating she’d get paranoid her dad wld somehow find out too n smthn wld happen to him for it. it ws definitely weird for her like the fact she even cared enough to consider tht.

something they find adorable about your muse:  

adorable is rly not a word that fits into bradley’s vocabulary GHSFGHSFKGHSFKG bt hm. maybe if he ever tried to tell her what to do one time even casually. she’d b like awww..... u think i do what anyone tells me? that’s so fucking sweet. 

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  

in most cases no :/..... however if it was smthn to do w the guys that work for her dad then ya she’d put herself in danger to avoid him being in it.

would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  

i mean she has in the past bt bradley’s idea of dates is like. starting a bar fight together. getting thrown out of a club n both falling over into trash cans in a dingy back alley. stealing a car. breaking into a random house n fking in a stranger’s bed. fking in the bk of a movie theatre w a horror movie screening. definitely not dinner or anything like tht. she wldn’t now........ they’re not exactly in a place fr that..... 

one word my muse would use to describe yours:  

ex. whatever. i know it’s not one word but “some guy”. FGHSKGHFGKSHG >_>

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no. she’s a violent person bt not xavier.

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

NO hugging...................... she fronts like she wldn’t kiss him bt like. if a discussion got heated n they were in each other’s faces who’s to say. 

NYLA & SEAN

their first impression of your muse:

strange little fella which is a very high compliment. kind of reminded them of an animated turtle come to life in the human realm altho they honestly don’t have an explanation for that it’s just the way their brain works. they love the turtles in finding nemo tho so maybe there’s some sort of correlation. very nice face. they kind of wanted to hold his head like a bowling ball just so they could examine it properly. i feel like when they first met him they probably reached out n smoothed a sticky label onto his forehead that said ‘catfish in chernobyl’ n they had one on their forehead that was blank n then they just wafted a pen mid air n were like ‘wanna play guesses?’ even tho that isn’t the name of the game. as if that was just. a completely normal introduction to someone. FGKHSKHGSFKGHSFKG. feel like sean wld have rolled w that tho so nyla was like :P i like.... if they played another round they’d give sean another sticky label that said ‘the loneliest whale in the world’ n then it’d start a whole conversation abt how nyla thinks they can speak whaleish. (whale spin on elvish). 

current impression:  

sean makes them think of that artificial blue raspberry flavour some popsicles have n how it’s always rly fun when they stain ur tongue. sweet n exuberant n leaves a bright impression. he lets them ride on his skateboard sometimes rolling along being lead by them holding his hand n nyla likes to shut their eyes like they’re a bird sailing above the clouds. one of their favourite things to do especially when the sun’s out. bc of this nyla thinks sean was a bird in his past life but not a greedy one like a seagull or a plain one like a pigeon. maybe a bluebird bc of his eyes. he makes them laugh a lot. they entrusted him to babysit their children (as pictured) in his hair for a whole day and night once n they had lots of fun with him so nyla thinks he’s very trustworthy and kind. he also is rly easy to talk to like they cld randomly be like “i’ve been thinking lately that maybe homer simpson could’ve been a good figure skater” n sean wldn’t look at them like they’ve lost their marbles he’d just go w it. they like his company a lot.

are they attracted to your muse?:  

😏

something they find frightening about your muse:

ummm nothing in particular altho one time when they were rly tripping out bc his eyes are blue n it got them thinking abt the ocean n they always think they can talk to ghosts underwater so they were kind of like. thinking abt ghosts whenever they looked him in the eyes. maybe covered their own w their hands n if sean asked why they told him abt it. suddenly he shut his eyes to make them feel better n it turned into a whole thing where nyla had to lead him around the party like a guide dog.

something they find adorable about your muse:  

his nose. watching him talk to his siblings. his hands.

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  

😌 yea

would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  

yes............ feel like they’d have fun if they went anywhere tbh........ cn imagine them at a fair eating from the same cotton candy n chattering as they point out things. nyla trying to do that hammer game where u make the meter reach the top n lifting the hammer in the air n falling backwards bc it was heavier than they anticipated.... sean yelling like man down man down..... mayb they take a tab n suddenly the fair is so scary they’re like 😳 we’re in danger...

one word my muse would use to describe yours:  

silly (affectionate). sailor (also term of endearment). gnome (same thing again). cool.

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no ur sick....

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

ya to both. jst suddenly had a vision too of nyla being cold one time n clinging to sean from the front like a bushbaby in a hug as he carries her around. suddenly this mode of transportation hs happened more thn once (godmod) (contact my lawyers if u dare bebe) (bitch) (i take it back) (it wasn’t right alli it jst wasn’t right) (pelase forigev m eim shakign)

[angelofthenightposts]

Feel it still. // Ch.2

Series Masterlist. | My Masterlist.

“I don’t think Sam likes me.” You take a sip of your beer and reach out to bowl on the coffee table to grab a handful of popcorn. Steve takes his eyes off from the TV for a second; he arches his left eyebrow at your sudden opinion before taking a sip from his bottle.

“Don’t take him to the heart, he likes you. He just, he has a little trouble in getting along with women, that’s all. “

You have just come home after your shift and found Steve watching the old baseball game in the living room, even though it is pretty late considering it’s a weekday. You changed your clothes into comfy sweatpants and an old t-shirt before joining him on the couch. It is a little over a week since you moved in, and knock on wood it’s all great. Steve is the first person you became friends with as expected. He is a polite, thoughtful, and decent man, and you have no reason not to like him. On the other hand, Sam is still at the phase of ignoring your presence.

“If you say so… Oh god, the dead pixels on the TV screen are killing me.”

You love the place, you really do, but the thing is a few things are old. For example, on the second day you finished moving in, you had a little incident at the shower and the only person to save you from stuck valve was Bucky. All day of him messing you wasn’t enough apparently.  It was Saturday, your day off and you found Bucky in the kitchen eating cornflakes as you left your room to grab a cup of coffee. You would rot in hell if you kept lying that you didn’t like him; you had always a thing for a man like him, mysterious, a bit flirty. But you didn’t want to risk everything out just for your biological time. Everything was normal until he asked you if you liked what you see; until that point you weren’t aware that you were staring at his body, it was impossible not to; his bare chest looked so good to ignore it in the first place. But just to avoid any uncomfortable situation, you teased him that he wasn’t your type; his laugh was enough to let you know he didn’t believe you. The thing that frustrated you the most was his nickname for you. No matter how many times you asked him not to call you, angel, he didn’t stop.

“We need to get a new TV.” You nod as you try to find a more comfortable position in your seat and not to miss the game at the same time, baseball is never your thing but watching with Steve is always fun. With key clicking and door shutting, you both look over your shoulders. Bucky throws his keys into a corner and walks towards you. For a second he stands still as if he can’t decide where to sit, you shake your head no, he shouldn’t sit next to you, your side of the couch is barely enough for you.

He lifts your legs up and sits down on the couch. When you roll your eyes and try to sit up Bucky catches your ankle with his left hand. “It’s okay, angel, stretch your legs.”

Steve doesn’t take his gaze away from you two; he is surprised that his childhood friend came home tonight. It’s 02.20; he usually spends the night with the women he met at the parties. Bucky, while drawing circles on your soft skin, notices Steve’s curious eyes and shrugs. “I didn’t get much pleasure at the party.”

“Do you mean you didn’t get pleasure from the party or the women at the party?” you ask him with a grin on your face and take your bottle to your lips. Bucky doesn’t answer you but it’s clear that he is happy to find someone who likes to mess with people as much as he does. He reaches for your hand and pulls the cold bottle to himself. You watch him taking a big sip of it, “Dude, there is literally a bottle in front of you.”

He shrugs again and tells you something about being more delicious this way.  You got used to his flirty mood because you know, he could flirt with anyone, and it is not that special. You turn your eyes back at the screen, trying to ignore the slight touches on your legs. It feels so good, you’re a sucker for featherlike touches; you find it hard to keep your eyes open as his index finger draws another circle.  

“I think, I’m going to head out to sleep, it was so tiring tonight. Good night, fellas.” You are unaware of two pairs of eyes that stared at your body as you stand up and walk to your bedroom.  The tattoo, which is seen because of your shorts, attracts the attention of both men and it looks like a masterpiece on your skin.

“This girl will be a cause of my death.” Bucky in surprise looks away from you, he has never thought that his friend would be bold to say that.

“Yeah, mine too. But don’t forget our deal. No funny business. ” he warns Steve, as the green-eyed monster called jealousy tries to take control over his body.

//xxx//

It is the next day, you are in your bedroom, and getting ready to go out; you and Michela are going to meet for a cup of coffee. And suddenly you hear a curse coming from the living room, it is nothing unusual, the guys love cursing at things they can’t change or take control over. After putting your keys and your smartphone in the bag, you notice that it’s Steve’s voice, and a couple of seconds later other two join him. You leave the room to see what it’s about and find them standing in front of the TV. Sam is staring blankly at the black wire he holds in the air while Steve and Bucky are removing the TV from the wall. "Um, what’s going on here?”

“It’s gone; we have to buy a new one.” If they decide to get a big, high-quality TV like this one, you would have to eat your shoe for the next week. But you can’t just tell them that, it’s way too embarrassing for you so you try to find another way.

“Nope, we don’t; we just have to get one from somewhere.” As the three men look at you with confused expressions, you grab Steve’s car keys and throw them at him, “Come on, we need to hurry before she comes back.”

 "So your big plan is going to your old apartment and stealing TV? “ You unbuckle your seatbelt and look out the window after Steve parks his car in front of your old place. It feels weird, it’s been only one week since you moved out but the place feels foreign. You roll your eyes at Sam as you look back over your left shoulder.

"I am not stealing it; I am just taking it back. I bought it a few months ago with my own money, and I won’t let that bitch use it. "

"It sounds dangerous to me.”Steve joins in the conversation as he turns off the ignition, his eyes meet with Sam’s at the rearview mirror.

“No, it’s not. All we have to do is to get off the car, take the TV and drive back. But if you don’t have the balls to do this, wait for me in the car. "You step out of the car and begin to walk to the entrance of the building. You want to look back to check if your friends are behind. They can’t really be that scared to send you up alone, can they?

"Wait for us!”You see them running towards the elevator; Bucky is the first one to reach you and Steve and Sam after him, grunting.

"I know you wouldn’t let me do this all by myself. But we can’t all go up, someone has to watch out. Bucky, you come with me. Steve, wait for us in the car, I want you to be ready if we have to drive away. And Sam, you let me know if Maria comes back." It feels like a scene from bank robbery movies and you all nod each other excitingly.

"Well, I don’t know what Maria looks like.” Sam stops the sliding door of the elevator once he realizes the problem.

“Let me know if some blond, faint-hearted bitch comes.”

    Bucky and you are in front of the door, he asks you what you are waiting for but quickly you shush him. The moment you hear a voice, you are all out.  But there is nothing so, with the pleasure of justifying that Maria isn’t at home, you push the key into the hole and open the door.

“Oh god, someone is dead.” At first, you laugh at Bucky’s reaction but your eyes are also burning with the disgusting smell. The place is a mess; the health department is probably on its way to shut it down. “Is that a condom? I thought your roommate is gay." You grimace after a glance at the used object that Bucky points at the floor. You suppress the desire to open the window and fill the inside with fresh air and you point to the television.

"Come on; help me get the cables out.” You quickly take an action but look up when Bucky stands still and does nothing to help you.  He is staring at you, you basically kneel before him and he looks so intimidating. He rubs his chin with his finger and grins at you, you know he’s about to comment something naughty but you stop him arching an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna break it, let me.” He kneels next to you and you watch Bucky pulling the cables out of the sockets by one by. He is as muscular and big as Steve; his thick arms seem to tear his white t-shirt at any moment. Since he is so focused, his sharp white teeth sunk into his bottom lip. You finally take the TV and stand up but a voice stops you both, your phone in your pocket starts to buzz. You hear keys clicking and the door burst opens. Now, what are you supposed to? Maria folds her arms over her chest and gives you the look, the angry one.

  Steve hands you the ice bag and sits down on the couch, a worried look on his face. You gladly put it on your swollen eyebrow, biting your lip and sucking in a sharp breath with pain. You rest your head on the headrest and shut your eyes when Sam offers you help, you give him the ice. As he gently puts it back on your face, you cross your legs on the coffee table. “I still can’t believe you fought with that girl over a television.”

“If I wasn’t in shock, I would record all fight. It would be viral on YouTube. "You want to flip out Bucky; since you came back all he does is to tease you about your catfight with Maria. Sure you could’ve found a wise answer to tell him if you’re not so fucked up, but your all muscles are aching.

"I’m happy to have a nice new TV, though,” Steve says before going to the fridge and pulls out beers for everyone. He hands you one after opening it for you, you realize even Sam isn’t so distant from you, it makes you smile.

“Is it strange that I still find you still sexy, despite your wounds and bruises?” If your eyes aren’t closed you would’ve rolled your eyes at Bucky, but instead of that you just snort.

“Dude, you have to get laid immediately. You are acting like a horny teenager. And it’s creepy because you are 26 years old man.” Sam tells his friend and you all agree.

[foolishtomfoolery-blog]

We Bought a House: Parts 1,2,3

We moved into the house at the beginning of March.

It was one of those old, Antebellum plantation houses that looked more like a mansion.

It stood three stories and all of the fixtures were ornately adorned. Four large pillars stood in the front, on top of which rested a balcony which spanned the length of the house. This gave the lengthy porch plenty of shade and helped to draw attention to the windows. They were quite large. They were also evenly spaced throughout, adding a symmetry that was aesthetically pleasing.

Richard was in love with it the moment he laid his eyes on it. “Can you imagine Christmas’s in this house?” He stood back, marveling up at it. “Or any of the holidays really?” He turned to look at me.

My attention, however, was elsewhere. I had become enthralled with the surrounding area. There was a stunning garden which wrapped around the foundation and trailed down, ending finally, at the halfway point of the walkway. The area surrounding that was a lush expanse of yard and fields, now overgrown with wildflowers, which abruptly turned into woods. The trees were so thick it could have easily been mistaken for a forest.

“Plenny of privacy out here.” The realtors thick southern drawl snapped me back to attention. “Plenny of room too.”

“I’m not sure.” I looked over to Richard. “What would we even do with all of this space? There are only three of us, counting Falcon, and there are three floors and acres of land. It seems rather silly for us to move into something so big.”

“Honey,” Richard began, “we are never, in all of our lives, going to come across a deal like this one again.” He laced his fingers through mine. “We can convert some of the rooms to suit our needs. If it’s the size of our family that worries you, we can adopt a friend for Falcon. We can finally adopt a baby of our own, even.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

Some of what he said did make sense. The property was being sold at a ridiculously low price. It was actually well below the budget we had set. The thought of having everyone together under one roof for the holidays did give it a cozier appeal as well. But the thought of finally starting a family of our own made my chest flutter with excitement.

“They lettin folks like you adopt now?” The realtor squinted at me in the sunlight.

“Excuse me?” All of the excitement I had felt moments ago was replaced with revulsion.

“I didn’t mean you as in coloreds,” he pointed at me as he said this, “I just meant, ya know, homosexuals.” He was pointing at both of us now.

“How in the hell is that supposed to be less offensive?” I seethed.

“Aw, hell, I’m sorry.” He brought his hand up and gingerly began rubbing his scalp. “I ain’t dealt with any couples like you fellas before. I guess I gotta work on that.”

“Yes, I’m sure it must be so hard for you to treat the interracial gay couple like normal human beings.” I shot back hotly.

Richard placed his hand on my arm, “Sweetie, please. He said he was sorry.”

“I really, truly, do apologize sir.” He did look as though he wished he could take it back. “I’m just an old buffoon with poor conversation skills is all. I didn’t mean no offense.”

“You know what, it’s fine.” I huffed. “Just keep in mind that this is no longer the slave south when you decide to ask your rude ass questions from now on. Equality is a thing, even for us homosexuals.”

He threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “How ‘bout we take a look at the inside of the house now? I promise I won’t ask no more silly questions.”

The realtor focused his attention on Richard as we skimmed through the rooms, keeping his distance from me now.

There was beauty in it, even I could admit that.

However, I couldn’t help but be put off by the obvious history of it. This portion of Virginia had been known for its cotton plantations.

As we went from room to room, an uneasy part of myself couldn’t help but wonder how many slaves has been forced to tend those overgrown fields outside. How many had been forced to tidy up these rooms.

By the time we had finished our tour, I had a bad taste in my mouth. I was almost certain this house would not be for us. Though the land was breathtaking, the house itself had left me with a cold and unwelcome feeling.  

I took Richard to the side as we stepped out onto the porch. “Can we please look at some of the other places instead? Preferably with a different realtor as well?” I asked him quietly. “I am uncomfortable with the feel of this house and it really is too large for us anyway.”

“Are you kidding me,” he hissed back at me, “you are the one who said you wanted to move down south. I didn’t even want to at first, but this place is perfect.” He was giving me “the look”. That pouty face he always gave me when he wanted to get his way.

He interjected as I began to respond, “you can have your own writing room AND we can convert a room into a library. Think of the dinner parties we could host in that dining room.”

I could tell there would be no talking him out of this. He had made up his mind before we had even seen the interior of the house.

“I guess it is only fair for me to give it a shot, if you really love it that much. Plus, it is a little funny to think of some old plantation owner pitching a fit beyond the grave because we bought his house.” I giggled at the thought.

“Yes!” He rejoiced. “You will not regret this, love. It is going to be wonderful!”

As he happily strolled over to the realtor, ready to give him the good news, an uneasy thought crept up on me.

“Why exactly is this land being sold so cheap?” I called over to him.

“I ain’t really sure,” I could have been imagining it, but he looked angry that I had asked. “I know the lady said there was some kind a emergency with her husband. Don’t think she could take care of it by herself, so she’s just trying to sell it quick and easy. He’s in the hospital, so she’s spending most of her time with him there.”

“Oh no,” Richard crooned, “that’s terrible.”

“Eh,” the realtor began, “terrible to say, but it happens a lot now days. It’s all them chemicals they been putting in the food, making people sick more often.” He chuckled as he said this, which made me loathe him even more.

“How kind of you.” I said sarcastically. They were both ignoring me now though, lost in conversation about finalizing the sale.

When they were finished, Richard and I climbed into the car. He waved genially at the realtor as we began our departure into the looming trees.

I glanced in the mirror as we got further down the drive and did a double take. Upon first glance, I could have sworn the realtor had been flipping us off, a look of scorn stretched across his face. However, there he stood, still waving at us as politely as ever. We eventually lost site of him as we continued down the winding path, and I pushed the uneasy feeling I had to the back of my mind.

…

It was easier to get out things settled than we thought it would be, once we moved into the place.

The realtor had taken care of the cleanup for the previous owners, which I thought was suspiciously nice of him. He had done a fantastic job, though. He had even taken the liberty of mowing our grass and getting rid of most of the wildflowers that had taken over the fields. I thought it was odd when he leaned in and told me he had left one of the fields overrun with them because he had seen me admiring them during our showing.

His kind gesture had left us more time to get better acquainted with our surroundings, so I tried my best not to be negative about it.

After moving in our belongings and getting everything set up, we spent the first two weeks exploring the surrounding area or planning out renovations to some of the rooms.

Richard was beyond excited with the way things were going.

I was still filled with that same uneasy feeling, and it was growing as the days passed.

This caused me to keep Falcon, our two year old chocolate lab, directly by my side. For some reason, his presence calmed me to a degree. It was something I needed as we explored.

I assumed I was just letting my anxiety get the better of me, but there were times as we explored or sat and planned out our renovations that I felt like we were being watched. During one instance, when we were picking out how we would put together the library he had promised me, I turned fast enough that I thought I saw something darting away quickly. Normally, there would be no doubt in my mind that it had been a trick of the light, but Falcon had stiffened beside me as well, fur bristling.

I tried to keep these feelings from Richard. I think I was reluctant to be the thing that ruined this excursion for him. I had been the one who begged and begged for us to move down south, despite his reluctance to do so. I thought that if I just stuck it out and tried a little harder, I would  find the same kind of enthusiasm that he had and everything would be alright.

Then we found the pond.

It took us about an hour, but after walking straight from the back door into the woods, we stumbled across the thing.

I shivered as we drew near it, despite the stifling heat I had been feeling only moments prior. Falcon, either sensing my unease or becoming uneasy himself, let out a low growl and tucked himself closer to my side.

Richard seemed unaffected. He was strolling about the area, talking about how it looked unused. “We could set up a little picnic area here eventually. It would be wonderful to use as a swimming spot in the summer. Maybe we could even buy an ATV, so we wouldn’t have to walk out here in the heat.” He was smiling at me now, but it faltered and eventually fell. “What’s wrong, love? You look white as a ghost.”

“I’m not really sure, dear. I got a chill all of a sudden. I think I may need to sit for a moment.” For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself any closer than I already was to the edge of the water. I took a few steps back and sat down quickly, as I had gotten light headed as well.

Richard stared at me a moment before he began a closer inspection of the water. “After you rest for a moment, we can start walking back. I hope you aren’t coming down with something.” He leaned over and stuck his hand in the water. When he did, Falcon let out a thunderous bark. Both Richard and I jumped in unison.

“What in the world?” He looked back at our beautiful boy, who was tugging anxiously in the direction of the house.

“Maybe we should go ahead and start back towards home.” I turned my gaze to Richard and let out a blood curdling scream.

There had been a little boy standing behind him. He was soaking wet and appeared to be wearing some kind of tattered, dirty shorts. Before Richard had turned, however, he was gone. Falcon erupted in a series of warning barks, his fur was bristled and he had an attack stance about him.

“What in the hell is going on with the two of you?” He said in an annoyed tone. “Let’s get you both home. Clearly whatever is affecting you is also having an effect on the dog.” He came over and took Falcons leash from me, helping me stand back up as he did. I turned back to look as we began our walk home, and this time I know I saw a little face, dripping wet, peering from behind a tree.

…

The week Richard had to leave for his business trip was the worst.

Everything seemed to amplify in his absence. It wasn’t just that I was seeing things moving in the shadows anymore. I could hear things moving around the house as well. At night, I would catch hushed whispers as they floated down the hall, yet I could never find the source.

Even Falcons demeanor had changed. He no longer resembled a happy, energized dog. He was constantly alert, emanating low growls of warning at seemingly nothing.  

I tried going into town as much as possible, but it was a small town and there wasn’t really much there to entertain the two of us.

I tried to work on my writing, locking Falcon in the room with me when I did. It did little good however, as I had no focus so I got nothing done.

By the time Richard returned, I had slept very little. I, of course, explained it away, saying that I had been unable to rest well with him away and the house still feeling too new.

Still, he knew that something wasn’t right.

“We both know you are well used to my business trips by now.” He held onto me lovingly as he said this. “What is the matter? Honestly this time.”

“If I tell you, you will commit me.” I laughed. “There is no way in hell that you will believe me.”

“Try me.” He sat in the bed and looked at me patiently.

It was hard for me to find the right words, hard for me to explain to him what had been happening to me while he was away. I wasn’t sure how I could convince him that I wasn’t going insane, especially when I had a hard time believing it myself.

“I feel like…” I was stalling. “Look, I know it sounds absolutely insane, but I feel like there is something in this house that wants us gone.”

“Honey, it’s just a house.” He said, maintaining an even stare.

“It feels like something is trying to chase us out, Richard. I keep hearing things, footsteps and whispers. I feel like I can see them running around the house sometimes. Even Falcon reacts to it, it isn’t just me.” He was looking at me with pity in his eyes.

“Falcon is a dog, he is going to act accordingly with the way you are feeling. You haven’t let him leave your side since we got here. Also, you have to remember that the house is very old. It will make noises from time to time, it’s settling.” He was shaking his head now. “I think you’re getting worked up for no reason, babe.”

“Do you remember the day we went to the pond? Falcon was acting strange, and I screamed at one point.” He nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I screamed because I saw a little boy standing behind you. One minute he was there and then he was gone.” I was aware that I sounded ridiculous, but at this point I couldn’t seem the stop the flow of words coming from my mouth.

“There isn’t even anyone that lives near us for miles.” By this point, Richard sounded annoyed. “Look, I know you were hesitant to move into the house, but this really is silly. I know that you aren’t crazy, but I do feel like you are letting your imagination run wild with this.”

I felt defeated. This was exactly what I had been trying to avoid.

“Maybe i’m just suffering from sleep deprivation.” I acquiesced.  

I crossed the room without another word and climbed into the bed, Falcon nestled up beside me. It didn’t take long at all for me to finally fall asleep.

…

As I slept, I dreamt.

I was in a cotton field. I glanced around and was horrified by the realization that I was in a cotton field on our plantation.

Where rows of wildflowers had stood when we attended our showing there was now cotton. All around me, toiling away endlessly, were slaves. White men paced the surrounding area with whips, occasionally cracking them off of some poor souls flesh.

Some of the men were covered in old scars. As I took in the scene playing out in front of me, I noticed that many of them had open wounds. A few of them seemed to be festering.

The sight of it all was enough to make me wretch. I stood, dry heaving for a good moment. I regained my composure when an odd sort of whisper made its way to my ears.

I turned my back on the scene to find the little boy I had seen at the pond. He stood at the edge of the field staring directly at me. His hand was out, beckoning for me to follow him.

I glanced around to see if he was motioning to someone else, but there was no one else. The slaves and their driver had disappeared, leaving me and this little boy alone on the property.

I began to make my way closer to him. “What’s your name little guy?” All I got in response was that same hushed whisper. It resembled the static from a television, but just barely audible.

He darted forward suddenly, lacing his fingers through mine. He began to tug at me persistently.

“Alright, alright.” I crooned as I began to following along behind him. His fingers were still locked around mine and there was desperation in the way he tugged at me as we walked.

We crossed the yard together and he hesitated at the edge of what is now my favorite field, the one still littered with overgrown wildflowers. He gave me a forlorn glance before jerking me back into motion.

The smell of rot began to permeate the air as we made in to the middle of the field. “What’s back here little man?” I mumbled more to myself at this point. It wasn’t long before I had my answer.

At the edge of the field that met the woods, there was a massive pit. Maimed and bloodied bodies littered the pit floor. The collection of bodies were at varying stages of decay, and the heat made the smell that much worse. I tried to shield myself from the stench as I took it all in.

There were bodies that had been here so long that the decayed flesh was sliding off. I glanced one side of a woman’s face, pooled around her skull, the bone left to bleach in the sun.  There were newer bodies as well. Some of them appeared to be sleeping until my eyes trailed down from the faces, one such face had the end of a noose still tied around its neck. Others had been brutalized beyond recognition. The wounds that covered the bodies, left to fester, now teemed with maggots.

I tried to turn quickly, as the bile that had been making its way into my throat surged forth. As I turned, I tripped on my own feet and stumbled forward. Vomit cascading onto my hands as I landed. He watched me for a moment, as I emptied the contents of my stomach onto the grass, before grabbing my face and pointing back in the direction of the pit.

I was unable to form words. Each time I opened my mouth, trying to form a question, I was assaulted with the image of what I had just witnessed. I gave up trying to communicate with him as his static whisper filled my ears again, opting to turn and look once more into that pit of horror.

The body he gestured at appeared to be that of a women. It was fairly new, covered with open wounds. It looked like this particular women had been beaten to death with a whip. She was naked, her body now a canvas of weeping sores and contusions.  

I looked up at him and discovered that he was weeping. I realized then that the trickles of moisture I had believed to be sweat dripping down my face were also tears as I began to sob loudly. Somehow, I knew without asking that this was his mother.

“Why?” I finally puttered. Tears, snot, and spittle flying from my lips. “Why would you show me this?” I attempted to bury my head in my hands, I couldn’t bear to see anymore. As I did so, he placed his hands at each side of my face, clasping onto me with purpose.

Images flooded my mind as I tried to protect myself from the scene in front of me. I knew that they were memories, but I was unsure of who they belonged to and how he was showing them to me.

I saw his mother, her wrist tied to a beam as she dangled naked in the morning sun. Her head hung limply, lips parted and cracked, but I knew she was alive. I saw what appeared to be a wealthy women, possibly the lady of the house, standing next to her. A crowd stood lazily, some of them were white, but the majority of them were slaves. I realized that they were being forced to watch as this spectacle began to unfold. The lady began to shout angrily, and the static filled my ears again, this time it was a roar that tore through my mind. I watched as she raised a whip in anger and began to lash out at the little boys mother. As she screamed in agony the imagery cut to black.

Then, his mother again. Still tied up and hanging in the sun, like meat left to cure. Her body covered in seeping wounds. This time, her head hung back limply behind her, eyes still open. They were swollen, a look of sheer terror forever frozen on her face. I saw the little boy then, kneeling at her feet. He gingerly placed a hand atop her foot before a cry rang out and he darted off towards the woods. It cut to black again as he reached the trees.

This time, I knew I was seeing the scene from the wealthy woman’s perspective. I looked down to see her hand, wrapped in his mothers thick hair. I was sickened to feel a surge of glee pass through me as I watched her broken body flop limply over the ground. We were dragging her towards the same field that held the pit. She made sure that we took our time as we passed the slaves that worked the grounds. I was filled with revulsion when the phrase “filthy niggers” crossed her mind as we eyed them. The memory ended as suddenly as it had began.

Then, once again, I was sitting across from the little boy. My hands had fallen away from my eyes as he had shown me what happened. I sat in a stupor, unable to comprehend what was happening to me.

He shifted his gaze from me out into the field again, pointing for me to look as well.

This time, I saw an older African American woman, she was hunched over where the pit had been moments before. It looked like she was working diligently on something, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was. I stood and crept closer, finding her hunched over a partially marked stone. She was working away at it with a chisel, a half finished “Rest In Peace” could be seen. Beside her, in a box, were more stones than I could count at the moment.

She was marking the graves. Silent tears making their way down her face as she did so.

The little boy clutched at my hand again, this time just giving it a solitary squeeze.

I awoke with a start, Richard standing over the top of me. He looked scared, and I was drenched in sweat.

“We have to go to the field,” the words rushed out me so quickly that they blended together into nonsense.

“What?” Richard looked confused. He was grasping my shoulders tightly. “What did you say?”

I threw the blankets to the floor and jumped off the bed, Richard jerked as his hands flew from my shoulders, “the field.” I slid my feet into my slippers and made for the door. “We have to go into the field, right now!”

…

It was dark outside, which made my scramble to the back of the field that much more difficult. Between fighting my way through the wildflowers and trying to avoid tumbling over Falcon, I’m surprised I came out of it unscathed. I could hear Richard calling out from somewhere behind me, but I refused to stop until I found what I was looking for.

When I finally made it to the part of the field that touched the woods, I flew face first into the dirt. Falcon had wound himself between my feet and I narrowly avoided slamming my head on a grave marker.

At some point during my mad dash, my eyes had adjusted a little better to the light. I laid there and marveled at the sea of stones the woman had placed. They spanned the entire stretch of land that the pit had once inhabited.

When Richard finally found me, I was still sprawled out on the ground, lost in the sea of images that had played out before me as I had slept. He had a flashlight in his hand, and he scanned the scene before him before finally shining it onto my face.

He was panting and when I finally looked up at him, aggression was rolling off of him in waves.

“What in the hell is this?” He waved the hand that held the light around wildly while the other was balled into a fist at his side. “You ran out of the house in the dead of night to show me some stupid rocks? Are you fucking serious right now?”

I stood then, and gently took the flashlight from him. “This isn’t just some stones Richard. Look at them, really look.” I held the beam of the flashlight on one of the markers. “They are headstones.”

“Who cares?” He spat back at me, not even bothering to spare a glance. “How does that have any significance?”

I began to grow agitated with his attitude. “This was a mass grave site. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of people were murdered here and tossed into a pit to rot. How can you be this callous right now?”

“How the hell would you know anything about what happened here?” His tone was cold. “So you found some graves? Who the hell cares? This house is old, this house was a plantation, obviously people died here. It’s just how they did things and you need to get over it. I’m not going to tell you again to drop this.” He was seething and there was something off about his eyes. In that moment, he looked nothing like my husband.

I hesitated, but only for a moment. “This is not something that I just happened to stumble upon while you were away.” I stretched out each syllable in my anger, I thought back on everything I had seen and everything I had experienced and I lost it. “I was shown where it was. The little boy, the one I told you about from the pond, he came to me while I was sleeping. He showed me what this place was like. I watched slaves being beaten as they worked. I saw a woman beat his mother to death in broad daylight while she forced the others to watch. I saw that same woman, drag his mother’s naked body to this pit.” I was close to hyperventilating at this point, but I pushed forward, refusing to end it until he heard it all. “He took me to this place and he showed me where they dumped their bodies. They just left them there, day and night, to fester.”

By this point I was shaking. I stopped to catch my breath as tears began to fall from my eyes.

“I said enough.” He was screaming at the top of his lungs as he lunged at me. I jerked back in time for him to miss, and he cursed under his breath. “Get back to your quarters now!”

I saw movement in the trees then and I let my eyes flick there for just a moment. Just long enough to see that same little boy hidden behind a tree. He had peered out for a moment, holding eye contact with me, and gave me a quick shake of his head.

My eyes went back to Richard and I noticed again that his eyes seemed cold and distant. The little boy knew something was wrong as well, he was warning me not to press this any further. Reluctantly, I listened.

“Alright,” I held my hands high in surrender and he snatched the flashlight from me. “We do need to get some sleep tonight, let’s go back to the house.” I studied him as he trampled through the growth ahead of us. He was ripping at it and throwing it off to the side as he went. Everything about his demeanor seemed different and it scared me.

…

Falcon had made himself a barrier between me and Richard when we reached the bedroom, tucking himself tightly into my side.

As I was lying in bed going over the revelations of the night, I kept replaying Richards aggressive behavior in my mind.

I had just began to drift off to sleep, when an alarming question came to mind.

Had he really told me to get back to my quarters?

…

I woke up to Falcons hot breath in my face. I gave his ears a good scratch and stretched lazily. The previous night was the farthest thing from my mind until Richard strolled into the room.

He seemed bright eyed and cheery, the polar opposite of last night. “Good morning! You need to get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast, it’s going to get cold if you keep laying in here.” With that, he turned and left.

I stared at the empty doorway, more baffled than ever.

Though I had been terrified by the thought of sleep when we came into the house last night, exhaustion had finally won over. I must admit, I too felt much better than I had in the previous weeks. I wondered if his behavior from the night before had simply been stress induced as I made my way downstairs. I was still apprehensive as I strolled into the kitchen, however.

“Good morning love,” I said slowly, my eyes taking in the massive feast that was set atop our table. “What…what is all of this? Do we have people coming over?”

He had to have been up well before sunrise cooking. There were waffles and pancakes, eggs and bacon, sausage, grits, toast, hash browns, and fresh fruit salad. There was no way we were going to be able to eat all of this food between the two of us, not even if we let Falcon have some.

“No, no visitors. I just wanted to make a big breakfast is all.” He was grinning ear to ear as he said this. “I thought we could enjoy each others company this morning and maybe talk about starting the adoption paperwork.”

I almost allowed myself to be sucked into this, he knew how badly I wanted us to adopt. I realized when that thought passed through my mind though that he was trying to manipulate me into dropping the conversation from the night before and I was not going to allow it.

“I think we should probably make a call to realtor before we do all of that, don’t you?” I asked as I casually began to make my plate. “After all, it seems as though he chose to leave that overgrowth there intentionally. I think he was trying to hide the headstones from us.” I sat back and slowly began to chew my waffle, Falcon was whining nervously at my feet.

“Lets not be silly, dear.” He was smiling tightly as he spoke. “You heard the man, he noticed you admiring them and left them there as a gesture of kindness.” He started making his plate as he continued. “I agree with you that he should have mentioned it, but I don’t think its reason enough to be upset with the man. He was just trying to do his job.”

“Yeah, that doesn't excuse it for me, though.” I sipped juice, knowing full well that I had issued some kind of challenge between the two of us with my statement. “It seems to me that this house has an incredibly bad history. I can’t fathom what it is that is making you turn a blind eye, but it’s something I am not capable of doing. I want to know who that woman was from my dream. I want to know what the hell is going on with this house and why that little boy keeps coming to me. I will not bring a child here, under any conditions.” Falcon growled then, low and soft, but audibly.

“Ghosts did not come to you in your sleep.” I noticed that his hand was balled tightly around his fork. “You are being ridiculous and talking like an absolute madman.”

The look on his face made me think back to the time my father had hit my mother. The way he forcefully told her that he didn’t lay a hand on her, trying to make her feel like she was crazy. I wasn’t sure what the hell had happened, but I knew that it wasn’t my husband speaking and I needed to tread lightly.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin this day. You made all of this delicious food and you still have a couple of hours before you need to be at work.” Falcon eased himself back down as I spoke, and I felt like I had said the right words to diffuse the situation. “Maybe we can explore the attic a little before you leave. I think it may be the only part of the house left.”

He was visibly calmer as we finished our food.

…

Distracting him with the attic turned out to be a regrettable decision.

We had yet to equip the house with central air, and heat rises. By the time we reached the door I was drenched in sweat. I could hear shuffling noises coming from the other side, but Richard seemed to be oblivious to them.

I was nervous as he opened the door. We were both hit in the face with stale, hot air. It was suffocating. I crouched down for a moment, afraid that I was going to faint. Richard waltzed right in as if he was impervious to the heat.

“Hey,” he called out, “there’s an old trunk in here.”

I took my time getting back into the standing position. I was still a bit dizzy as I made my way into the attic with him.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I entered. Richard was leaned down inspecting an antique trunk. Behind him, standing with one hand placed on a loose board at the wall, was the little boy from the pond. He held a finger to his lips as he rapped his hand against the board before slipping off into darkness.

“What the hell is wrong with you now?” Richard had stopped fiddling with the trunk long enough to stare up at me. He seemed annoyed.

“Oh, nothing really.” I ran my hand across my brow. “I think the heat may be getting to me is all.” I made a mental note to inspect that portion of the wall after he left for the day. “What do you have there?” I pointed at the trunk, trying to turn his attention away from me.

“I already told you, it’s a trunk.” He was looking at me like I was an idiot. “Maybe you should go lay back down for a while.” With that he turned and began to tinker away at the trunk again.

Part of me wanted to stay with him until he left for work, but an even larger part of me knew I needed to get away from him for a while. I was beginning to grow tired of his snappy attitude. Though I kept telling myself that it clearly wasn’t Richard, my patience was wearing thin.

“I think you may be right love,” I felt like it was getting hotter in there by the second. “I’ll go lay down for a bit, just remember to come tell me goodbye before you leave.”

I turned to make my way to the bedroom and met face to face with the apparition of the wealthy women from my dream. She was grinning from ear to ear, which stretched her face beyond normal proportions. My heart was racing as she pressed her face against mine and opened her mouth in what would have been a scream. Static screeched through my mind so fiercely I felt like my ear drums would explode.

A scream tore its way out of me and then there was nothing.

…

I came too for a moment.

Richard was pacing our bedroom and Falcon was crouched low over me. He was growling menacingly at Richard anytime he would come near me. Richard grew annoyed and tried to shove him away, but Falcon attacked him.

I tried sit up, to call out to them. The moment I began to elevate myself dizziness washed over me again.

As my head hit the pillow I spied the boy again, he was standing in the doorway staring at me.

…

He was there again, in my dream.

“Thomas,” I said as I gazed into his mournful eyes. “Your name is Thomas isn’t it?”

I’m not sure how I knew, but I was correct. He’d given up trying to speak to me, instead he nodded his little head in agreement.

“What are you trying to tell me?” I was desperate for answers by this point. My entire life had been fucked since we purchased this house and I needed to know what was going on. I needed answers and I knew this little boy was the only way I was going to get them.

He tangled his hand into mine and began to lead me to the house. Everything was still as we approached, which did nothing to ease my worries.

When we reached the house he led me into the dining room. The woman that had killed his mother was there, talking in hushed tones to a man. He squeezed my hand as we watched the scene unfold, and her name flooded my brain.

“Mrs. Elizabeth,” I asked Thomas. Another firm nod of the head confirmed what I already knew.

Elizabeth stepped away from the mystery man then. Finally being able to gaze upon his face left me feeling simultaneously sick and enraged.

It was the realtor. I can’t explain how, but it was the exact same man we had spoken too. The same man who had done all the cleaning for the previous owners, the same vaguely racist ass who I had been so infuriated with just a short time ago.

Thomas gave my hand another quick squeeze and then the scene shifted in front of my eyes. We were standing at the door of the attic now. Inside was a gentleman I somehow knew to be Thomas’s father and Elizabeth’s husband. The realtor stood in front of him, they were in the middle of a heated argument. I watched as his Father, the name “James” coming to mind as I watched, tried to shove past the realtor. As soon as he had drawn near enough however, the realtor stabbed him. I watched as James crumpled to the floor, the realtor twisting the knife in his abdomen as he fell. When James was lying on the floor, the realtor pulled the knife out and slashed quickly at his throat.

I watched as the realtor shoved James into the trunk Richard and I had discovered in the attic, tossing the knife inside in afterthought before closing the lid. He covered it with an old sheet and placed a few miscellaneous items around it before walking calmly back towards the door.

Next, we were standing at the edge of the pond. He let go of my hand then, glancing back at me as he moved away from me slowly. He was crying as he laid face down on the ground. The moment he had finished laying himself out, the rest of the scene filled itself in.

There was a german shepherd holding him to the ground by the back of his neck. When he squirmed, trying to get away, the dog would clamp down harder. Elizabeth stood a few feet away, a snide look on her face. She lifted her hand and shouted something to two other shepherds and they darted forward, biting at the exposed parts of Thomas. The realtor stepped up from the shadows then, calling the dogs off of him after they had inflicted enough damage.

Elizabeth sauntered over then, grabbing him by the hair, and began dragging his nearly lifeless body towards the pond. He was a tough kid. Despite the fact that his body had been torn open and brutalized by her dogs, he still tried to fight her. He lifted his arms weakly and she smacked them away each time. When she reached the water he tried to kick her, but it was no use. She held him under as he struggled. It faded out then, but I knew how it ended.

…

When I opened my eyes, Falcon was there. He was licking tears from my eyes.

I pushed him away gently and looked around for Richard, but he was gone. I assumed he’d left for work so I immediately set out to explore the attic.

I knew now what was inside the truck, but I still needed to find whatever was hidden in the wall.

I noticed streaks of blood as I exited the bedroom and remembered that Falcon had attacked Richard. It worried me, but I trusted my dog. Something had been wrong with Richard and he was trying to protect me. I just hoped he hadn’t hurt him too badly. I imagine that would be hard to explain to his boss.

I made a mental note to clean up the blood when I came back down from the attic and headed to get the tools I would need to get that wall panel off.  

…

It wasted no time prying the panel off of the wall. I had no interest in coming face to face with the specter of Elizabeth again and the way Falcon was pacing made me anxious.

There was something bundled inside. The rags didn’t look that old, which was surprising to me for some reason. There were journals inside, and they belonged to the woman I had seen placing the headstones at the pit.

There were three of them in total, and in scanning them briefly I found that they detailed her time in this house.

I walked back downstairs, making myself comfortable so I could read them.

Her experience with the house was much the same as mine. She was plagued by the spirits in the house, her and her husband. I learned that her name was Margie and her husband’s name was Tyler.

The little boy had come to Margie, and Elizabeth had inhabited Tyler.

The story within those pages was almost identical to my own. The only variation I found, aside from her lack of a pet, was that the little boy had shown her how Elizabeth had died as well. Apparently, after learning that Elizabeth had murdered the child, the slaves had revolted. They murdered every white person they came across on the grounds, and then drowned Elizabeth in the pond the way she had done with Thomas.

Thomas hadn’t shown me that part yet.

I’ll tell you now, the similarities scared the hell out of me. Especially when I had gotten near the end.

Tyler had eventually been overcome by the spirit of Elizabeth. In his possessed state he had tried to murder her. She had to fight back, and in doing so she killed him. She was overcome with grief and she took her own life. She had written out these journals and hidden them in the house, expecting that what had happened to her would happen again. She wanted to leave some kind of warning for the next victim.

I tossed her journals back into the hole in the wall when Falcon began viciously barking at the stairs.

…