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The house loomed in front of me like a dark secret, standing taller than it had seemed in the photos.  It looked like as though it had been forgotten long ago. The windows, framed in black, stared down at us like empty eyes, holding stories no one had bothered to tell.

"Come on, Rose! Grab your stuff," my twin sister, Violet, called out from the car. She sounded just as annoyed as I felt. Mom and Dad were already pulling boxes out of the trunk, eager to settle into their "fresh start." I lingered on the sidewalk, my gaze fixed on the house. There was something off about it, something that made my skin prickle, but I couldn't place why.

I didn't want to move. Neither did Violet. Our life back in the city wasn't perfect, but at least it was familiar. Here, everything felt too quiet, too empty. According to our parents, this house was going to be the answer to everything—a new beginning after months of tension and whispered arguments behind closed doors.

"Rose! Let's go already," Violet's voice broke through my thoughts. She was already halfway to the front steps, her blonde hair whipping in the wind. Her expression was as guarded as ever, the same one she'd worn since our parents had dropped the bombshell about moving. I sighed and forced myself forward, dragging my bag along the gravel path.

Inside, the house was just as unsettling. Dust coated the wooden floors, the air felt thick, and each step we took echoed like we were intruding on something. It smelled faintly of old wood and decay, like no one had lived here in years. Mom was already in the kitchen, humming to herself as she unpacked boxes, pretending this was normal.

"Violet, Rose, go pick your rooms," Dad called from the living room, where he was busy trying to figure out how to work the ancient fireplace.

Violet shot me a look. "I'll take the one furthest from everyone," she muttered, disappearing up the stairs without waiting for a response.

I followed her a moment later, my feet dragging as I wandered through the halls, each one darker and narrower than the last. The house seemed to swallow the light, leaving everything in shadow. Finally, I found my room—a small space at the end of the hall, with a single window looking out over the overgrown backyard.

I set my bag down on the bed, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping over me. Something about this place was wrong. There was a coldness in the air, like it was alive with secrets it didn't want to share.

A soft knock echoed from the hallway. I turned to find Violet standing in my doorway, arms crossed, her face unreadable as usual.

"Creepy, right?" she said, glancing around my room. "I already hate it here."

"Yeah," I agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "It feels...off."

Violet nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked toward the window. "It's like the whole place is waiting for something. Or someone."

I didn't respond, but the words hung in the air between us, heavy and unsettling. There was something waiting here. We just didn't know what.

Hours passed, and the uneasiness lingered long after we unpacked. I tried to distract myself by exploring the house, but every room felt the same—dark, heavy, and abandoned. By the time dinner was ready, I was more than ready to get out of the house, even if just for a moment.

As we sat around the dining table, our parents chatted excitedly about the "opportunities" this house would bring, but Violet and I exchanged looks, neither of us convinced.

Later that night, I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The house had settled into an eerie quiet, but it was far from peaceful. Every creak of the floorboards, every groan of the wind outside felt like something—or someone—was moving through the halls, watching. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, trying to calm my racing heart.

Then, there was a sound outside my window—a soft tap, like something brushing against the glass. I sat up, my heart pounding. The room was still, the only light coming from the moon filtering through the curtains. Slowly, I crept toward the window, my breath catching in my throat. I pulled back the curtain, and there, standing just below in the yard, was a boy.

He had blonde hair, messy and falling over his forehead, and his pale face was illuminated by the faint moonlight. He was staring up at me, his eyes intense, almost too dark for his face. For a moment, we just looked at each other, neither of us moving.

Then, he smiled.

A chill ran down my spine. I blinked, and in that split second, he was gone. Vanished into the shadows as if he had never been there at all.

I backed away from the window, my heart hammering in my chest. I glanced toward the door, expecting Violet to appear and tell me I was imagining things, but the hallway was silent. No one had seen him but me.

Shakily, I crawled back into bed.

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