It's hard to avoid the Monton mansion. Built in 1828, this double storey black brick building stands askew. Ivy crowds the front of house, creeping up and wrapping around the square front porch. A tower spiralling up to the heavens, stares you down as you walk past. Shutters held firmly closed for most of the year, but sounds drifted out. The iron gates stood guard around the house, its gate creaking for each arrival. They say those that go in never come out, that the house is its own manifestation of fear. But those are just stories. This is my home, and I haven't taken anyone.

The gate creaks as I make my way towards the door, skeleton key in hand. I walk in silence, the gravel crunching under my feet, the lock slides and I push it open. The door squeaks shut and I listen to house breathe, in and out, like me. Groans accompany my presence.

'Good evening house.' I say taking off my shoes and heading upstairs, running my fingers along the banister, to my tower. I put on some music, sit on my window ledge and watch the people pass below. Children with bags on their backs, make quick glances at the house as they walk past, whispering to each other. The grown ups are all the same, they look anywhere but the mansion and walk fast. She is different, the girl in the pale blue dress, there she is standing at the gate, staring up at the house, at me. Goosebumps break out over my skin, I hide behind the curtain, trying to slow down my beating heart and I immerse myself in work, trying to rub the image from my mind. It's dark when I look out the window again but she is still there, staring up at me. I close the curtain and climb into bed, shoving the thought of her down.

My dream fills me with fear. Two yellowy hands, with stretched skin and cracked, brown fingernails reach out from the darkness. A light flickers above me, dying of breath. They hide in the shadows, I hear the scrape of their joints as they pace, the crack of their body as they stretch. I stop breathing, I can feel my heart pounding, bouncing against my ribcage. The smell of smoke wafts around me. Something brushes my shoulder and I spin, catching an eye with large pupils, the blackness piercing into my soul. A snarl builds in the distance, it barrels through me like a wave, knocking me down. I look up and see a smile, sharp teeth baring down on me, blood oozing out their pointed chin. It disappears back into the shadows. I stumble back to my feet, frantically searching for a way out. A fierce roar echoes from the darkness and cuts off any thought of running. I cower under the light and pray, a soft voice calls out from the darkness. 'Help me.' I strain my ears, trying to figure out where it's coming from. The light snuffs out, plunging me into my fear. I wake up screaming, my face is hot and I know my hair is stuck to the back of my neck. I throw the doona off and get up, I pace around my circular room, trying to shake my fear. I wake up house and they creak annoyed at me.

'I'm sorry, I had a bad dream and I needed to calm down.' I say to the wood.

House knocks 'Follow' and I walk after it.

'Where are you taking me?' I whisper

Groans echo from the stairs.

'Up there?' I point to the door.

House opens the door with a creak.

'Why?'

House remains silent as my bare feet collect the dust on each step and I walk inside.

'What is this place?' I ask.

'Secrets.' House whistles back.

Thick wooden beams slope either side, as the window diffuses the orange glow of the morning sun reflected off the grey tile. In the middle of the room sits a box, aged white cardboard, dusty as everything else up here. I kneel down and open it, watching the dust swirl in the draft. Inside lay stacks of paper. Just dates and names, my family history I suppose, house urges me to take it. I hesitantly pick it up and take it back to my room before getting ready for school. I slowly get ready, distracted by my dream. Its demonic eyes flash through my head and I drop my shoes.

'Share?' House groans.

'It's always the same dream,' I whisper to house, picking up my shoes. 'But something was different this time, I think it was a girl and she wanted me to help her. Why would the dream start changing now?'

House groans in support.

'Sometimes, I wish I could have a normal dream?'

'Normal?' House responds.

'You know, something about friends, or boys or my future.' I stare out the window, reminded that at school, I am all alone, I don't have any friends and no boys pay me any attention. The clouds swirl around each other, creating a thick grey paste above me, the trees rustle in a breeze I can't see and leaves get caught in the winds pace.

'I'll see you later' I say, touching the wooden beam as I leave the house.

The morning air is crisp, I hug myself tighter and shuffle down the gravel path, my breath creating puffs of smoke. The gate creaks as I open it, signalling my goodbye. The streets are empty but I enjoy the solitude, I watch the world around me begin their morning ritual. Following the same routine as me. Get up. Get dressed. Go to school, following the same path. Down the street, turn left at the end, cross the road at the pizza shop, go straight. I look up as I go to cross and see her, brown hair spilling down her back, the pale blue dress tattered with bare muddy feet. Her skin shines an off-white colour as she looks up at me. I keep walking pretending she's not there and when I look back, she's gone.

The bell chimes as I make my way to class, the hallways are barren as my shoes squeak on the linoleum floor.

'Help me.'

A voice whispers in my ear, her breath raising the hairs on the back of my neck, I spin around towards the voice and am met with the empty hallway behind. I turn back and there she is. I yelp and fall down as she towers over me, staring at me from beneath her mass of brown, knotty hair. I can see how her skin shimmers under the florescent light, as if she might disappear if you look at her the wrong way. Her blackened fingertips raise slowly to her lips and then I hear the first pop. The florescent bulbs above me, flare and pop in a shower of glass as it rains down. The darkness demands me, I cower under the only remaining light, she stands at the edge of the shadow.

'Why are you doing this to me?' I whisper, my body starts to shake, panic creeps its way up my spine.

She stares at me and cocks her head. 'Why not.' She says, her soft voice echoing down the empty hallway

My eyes grow wide. 'You're the voice from my dream.' I whisper. 'I don't understand.'

'But you will.' She smiles, baring crooked and chipped teeth, her smile reeks of violence. 'What are you most afraid of?'

The bulb above me starts to flare, I bury my head in my lap, praying for anything other than that. I can hear the bulb hum and look up to beg for mercy but she is gone and the light blows, leaving me alone, trapped in my nightmare.

A blinding white light surrounds me.

'Is this heaven?' My voice cracks as I look around.

The fluorescents blare down on me and I hear the mumble of voices behind the doors. The bell rings, the noise reverberating in my head, the walls start to close in on me. I run, desperate to be away and heading towards my sanctuary.

I burst in the door and up the stairs towards my tower, house groans at my explosive entrance but I don't stop to apologise. I throw open my window and climb onto the slick tiles, carefully manoeuvring my way across to a nook in the roof. My heart hammers in my chest and I stare down at the garden below me, I breathe deep, in and out, like house and try to give myself anything to focus on. From up here, I can see everything, how each tree has been expertly planted, showing the way through the chaos. Roses ravage around trellises and arches, their thorns staring down those that walk past. Uncut hedges rise above the long grass, their manicured shape distorted and bloated. I can see the edges of the broken fountain, now covered in slime and weeds. I close my eyes and draw up images of the garden in its beauty. I dream of white pebbled paths leading between beautiful flowers of every scent. Tall trees, with trunks just big enough to wrap my arms around, the pebbles crunch under me as it leads me through its straight paths. Hedges sheared into the shape of swans, stood mid-flight either side of a three-tiered fountain. Each tinkling splash sending shivers down my spine as I watch the water flow.

'Sweetie?'

I shake, the dream fades into obscurity.

'Over here.' I call.

'What are you doing out there?'

"Nothing, I'll come inside.'

'Okay, be quick.' I hear the clack of her heels fade.

I carefully make my way back inside and gently shut the window. I turn towards my door and start to walk, my legs crumble under me and I fall. My shoulder hits the boards below and a cry tumbles out of my lips as I try to push myself up. My cheek can feel each grain of wood before it all goes black.

A feeling of softness against my cheek is a welcome relief. I open my eyes and find myself tucked into bed. I move my leg and my body revolts. I grit my teeth against the pain, feeling like a million tiny needles are digging inside my leg, searching for bone. Mum bustles in an anxious look on her face and looks down at me.

'How are you feeling?' She says, concern pours out of her eyes.

'Death might be easier.' I reply, my voice cracking.

Mum starts to giggle as she stammers out. 'If only that were true.' Mum sits down calming herself, she notices my confused expression and pats my knee. 'I'll explain when you're older.' I wince at her touch.

'What's wrong with me? Why can't I move?' I ask.

Mums expression tenses and she starts to chew on her lip. 'You hurt yourself when you fell. You will have to spend a few days in bed and let your body recover.'

I look down at my hands. 'I don't know what happened. All I did was climb in the window and take a step.'

'Who knows, maybe you knocked your leg when you fell over. It's not important now.' She fiddles with my doona. 'What is important is that you get heaps of rest so you can get back up.' Mum kisses my forehead and turns to leave.

I want to tell her about the girl. 'Hey mum.' I call out.

'Yes sweetie?'

The words get stuck in my throat. 'I love you.' I blurt out

'I love you too, now get some rest.' Mum says shutting the door silently behind her.

I lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, the light drifts on the ceiling and I envy those people outside enjoying the breeze that wraps around and sways them, the clouds offering cover, from the suns gentle rays, I glance at the light.

'I hate them.' I mutter, venom dripping off my words. 'They get to enjoy the weather, while I'm confined to this draftee house.'

House groans in protest.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it but I want to be out there, with them, living my life and having fun.' I huff.'

House stays stubbornly quiet.

'I just need to sleep, things will be better tomorrow, I won't be invisible.' I close my eyes and feel house breath with me, reminding me I'm real, alive.

The sun shines down on me, warming my skin and I relish the feeling once again.

'Hello.' Someone calls out.

I turn in the direction of a girl my age smiling excitedly at me. She is pretty, beautiful long curly brown hair with a pink bow tied on one side. Bright blue eyes, half covered by a straight fringe, she wears a beautiful pale blue dress with a pink sash. 'I'm Margaret Joy Monton. Nice to meet you.' She holds out her hand and I numbly shake it.

'Hi' I whisper.

She giggles. 'You're funny, come play with me.'

She runs off and I stumble after her. I turn and run down the white pebble paths, past swans and beautifully sweet flowers. A man is adoringly gazing at his wife, as she animatedly talks to him. I see a young boy playing with some other boys, looking exactly like his mother, climbing a tree with a smile on his face. A teenage girl is walking around, a new hat proudly worn on her head, unmistakably of the same family, she has a group of girls following her. I see Margaret standing on the back steps, she giggles.

'Let's play hide and seek.' She laughs 'You're it.' She runs inside.

I run after her, chasing the giggle that keeps moving further away. As I search for her, the house starts to shift and I open the door and see a room full of old boxes. Dust floats down softly from the roof, catching in the light from the wall. Thick calico curtains block the window, I walk over and peer out, I can see the wrought iron fence wrap around the house. I search the footpath and find the spot I first saw her.

'This is my room.' I whisper to the wood.

I look around and notice the curve of the walls, with thick wooden beams leading up to the pointed ceiling. A dollhouse sat among some crates in the haze of light beaconing me. My stomach churns as I walk towards it. I reach the dollhouse and open its doors. Inside, there was a whole family, a girl stands above in the tower room, while the rest of her family are downstairs, a Christmas tree behind them. The girl is looking at the wall, her back to the door. I reach out to pick her up and the door slams shut, I am immersed in darkness. A light burns to life in the middle of the room. My churning gut turns to dread, I back up for a wall but the light only grows further. A low growl rebounds through the hollow space. I run for the safety of light just in time to see those leathery hands reach for me. A roar surges through the room as I try to make myself a small target. The roar only grows louder as I clutch my ears, I wait for the sound to end but it seeps into my brain and I scream, trying to drown the noise.

House reacts to my screaming, stretching its groan in concern.

'It's just a dream.' I retort. 'Only a dream. Dreams can't hurt you.'

I run my fingers through my hair, trying to get my breathing back to normal. When I look down and see a photo, sitting perfectly in my lap.

'What's this?' I ask, house remains quiet.

I pick up the photo, looks like a happy family. Dad stands tall, in his pinstripe suit, thick moustache covering his top lip, full cheeks and combed back hair but nothing could hide his large eyes under those thick eyebrows. Mum stood next to him, small eyes that seeped hope and a sneaky smile on her thin lips, her light short hair accentuated her high cheekbones. Both parents held their three children close. One boy and two girls. The older girl and boy looked like their mother, with high cheekbones, full lips but with their father's big eyes. She was beautiful, with her frizzy hair short and tamed into a hat. He was handsome with his hair combed to the side just like his father. Between them stood a girl with full cheeks shown in a wide smile. Small eyes peeked out from under her fringe, her long dark curly hair secured with a ribbon. I squeal, these were the people I dreamed about and she was that little girl. I eagerly turn it over 'Monton Family, 1932: Janet and Roger with their three children Jimmy (11), Lola (15) and Margaret (13)' I set it up on my nightstand and imagine the life they must have had.

The days have begun to blur.

'How are you feeling today?' Mum says.

'Better, my legs don't hurt as much, maybe I could get up soon.' I plead.

'No, no, not yet. I want you to be perfectly healthy.'

'But mum.' I whine. 'I'm bored, I want to go back and be a normal girl.'

'I know honey, just not now.' Mum kisses my forehead and straightens the doona around me. 'I'll see you later, we'll play something but try and get some rest.' She disappears out the door.

I don't tell mum I haven't slept in the past few days. It will only make her worry more and she doesn't need that, the new dream terrifies me, I don't know what's real anymore, I keep seeing that doll and I'm too scared to close my eyes.

'Make it stop.' My voice cracks as does my resolve and tears plummet from my cheeks. 'I can't do this anymore. I don't want to live like this.' Sobs rack my body. 'I want to be a normal girl.' House reaches out to calm me. 'I just want to sleep and not be terrified of every second, I am terrified to close my eyes. I know exactly what is going to happen and I don't want it. I just want to sleep and not wake up screaming. Why won't they let me have that?' I curl into a ball and let the sobs crash through me. House strokes me and shushes me until my body lay frozen, sore and heavy, my eyelids droop and darkness washes over me.

The light continues to flicker, the hands reach out to me, their fingernails graze my cheek as a spark flies, it drifts high into the air and the darkness swallows it. I hold my breath and pray my hopes won't go out, as blood trickles down my cheek. Those cracked and broken hands grab my wrists, its long fingers curling around, chaining me to them. I try to struggle but the heat intensifies, my skin burns. I let out a blood curdling scream as my skin sizzles under those hands. Tears come to my eyes and a burst of flame shoots out from the darkness, spreading into a circle. The flames grow brighter and higher as my skin melts like plastic. My lungs feel clogged, my legs heavy and I fall down. Their hands keep me up.

'Please.' I choke out as the pain expands. I pray my body will give out, my mind will disappear as I stare at the flames, watching them kiss the air with invisible tongues. I close my eyes, trying to block the pain and watch the light dance behind my eyes, distorted but beautiful. My leg jolts in agonising pain and I supress a scream. I go to sit up and grind my teeth together, keeping the pain inside. I fall back down, caught on the ground.

'Mummy.' I yell, my pain overwhelming my pride.

I hear mums footsteps and notice a cardboard box under the bed. Mum bursts in.

'What are you doing on the floor? You shouldn't be moving.'

'I thought I could get a book.' I lie, my dream has left me shaken.

'That's not a good idea, you're still weak.' Mum tsks.

'Sorry.' I say as she helps me back into bed.

Mum tucks me in. 'Anything else I can help with?' She sings.

'Can you please grab me the white box from under the bed?' I point and notice the red marks on my wrists. I quickly hide my wrists under the covers as mum goes to grab it.

'Here you are. All good?' She asks.

'All good, thanks mum.' The words tumble out of my mouth, fearful she doesn't notice the lie.

Mum kisses me on the forehead, oblivious to my deception. 'Good night. Get some rest.'

'Night mum.' I chirp.

The box becomes my new obsession.

'Why would you want me to see this? There's nothing here.' I sigh and shove the papers back in the box, I have been looking through this box for days and have found nothing useful mentioning Margaret. I look back through the collection of documents for her family. A yellowed piece of paper flies out, black cursive faded to grey, I hold it closer to the light.

'Margaret.' I exclaim, glancing over to the photo on my dresser. 'Certificate of Death' is stamped across the top of the page. Margaret Joy Monton, September 1st 1932, Death by fire. I grab the photo off the nightstand and double check the date.

'So that's what happened to you.' I stare into her eyes. 'But why are you coming to me?'

I fall asleep thinking of all the possibilities.

'This is the first time I've ever had to wake you up.'

I open my eyes. 'Huh.' I croak.

'Are you sure about school? Maybe one more day will do you good?' Mum leans over me, her voice overly anxious.

'Mum, I'm fine. I want to go to school. My legs are fine.' I push her hands off me.

Mum sighs. 'Alright, but just because your 13 doesn't mean you're an adult.' Mum kisses me on the forehead. 'Have a good day and you better get ready for school.' Mum floats out the door, disappearing into her room.

I stretch my legs and feel no pain, I jump up and get ready.

'I feel so much better.' I chirp. 'I slept peacefully, for once. I think today is going to be a good day.' I pack my bag and head out the door, touching the wood on my way out.

Fog hangs low as I make my way down, thick as smoke, it curls around my ankles as I walk through. The day starts to brighten and the fog rolls upwards, sliding around my waist and my neck. It covers my head and I stop. Through the grey haze, I can make out a bright yellow light. I run as my panic builds but soon my body slows down to a stagger. My knees start to shake, a rattle builds in my chest and the light grows more intense. I stop and sway, my vision growing dimmer, the fog starts to dissipate. I can see the school up ahead and run for its gates with dashed hopes of a different day.

I am still panting as I sit down in my English class, Mr. Robes is already sitting at his desk, not even glancing my way as I take my seat. Sometimes it is nice to be part of the wallpaper. It meant no teachers ever notice me missing but no one else knows I exist. I hope they will eventually. I start taking notes, focusing only on the teacher.

The clock strikes 3:30 and I bolt from the school grounds. I head home, cutting through to the forest boarding our gardens, trying to avoid people. I see her, just inside the tree line, she is frozen, looking down at the forest below and I take a step towards her.

'Margaret.' I call, she remains still.

I take another step, cracking a twig under me and her head snaps up. I lock onto those eyes, so familiar and a grin spreads across her face.

'Margaret, I want to help you.' I call out

She cocks her head to the side and parrots me 'I want to help you.'

My words get caught in my throat. 'What?'

'Don't you remember?' Her grin drops. 'Help me, mummy,' Margaret screeches, thrashing against invisible foes. 'Please.'

A scream pierces through the forest, I cover my ears and close my eyes to the sound. Silence deafens down and I slowly look up. She is gone, mist dissipating in her place. I turn and run until I am safe back in my home and surrounded by my circled tower. I can hear mum bounding up the stairs.

'Are you okay?' She demands, throwing open my door.

'I'm fine' I snap, wearing lines into the floor boards.

'Please talk to me.' She pleads.

My resolve starts to shake, I look up into her desperate eyes and I break. 'Mum, I don't know what to do.'

Mum slowly sits down on my bed and pats the spot next to her. 'Okay, then let's talk it through, we might make sense of it.'

I sit down, curl into her and spill everything, my dreams, hallucinations, I show mum the red marks and she listens to me.

'Why me?' I ask.

'I can't answer that, I'm not her. We will talk more about it tomorrow. Get some rest.' She kisses my forehead and walks out. I turn around and look at the photo propped up on my bedside.

'What do you need?' I ask Margaret, her smile stares out at me. I roll over, close my eyes and hope for a different dream, any dream.

I stand in my circled tower, no monster, no darkness, no flame. I see Margaret staring at me from the other side of the room.

'I want to help you.' I shout out. Her deep blue eyes pierce into me.

'You tried to run, you tried to hide.' Margaret sings.

I stagger back 'What does that mean?' I mutter

'But I'll always find you.' The floor board's creak as Margaret skips towards me.

The room bursts into flame and I scatter into the middle. I watch the walls climb in flames, I hear them crackle and pop as the wood splinters under the heat. I turn around and see her closer than before. Fear claws its way down my throat, every step sending knives into my sides. The darkness of death creeps up her arms.

'What do you want from me' I stammer out.

'I want you, you liar, you cheat, you shell of a person.' She spits out.

My voice is lost. The flames are roaring in my ears as I notice her burnt feet, already cracked and shrunken. It had spread up her legs, her skin dried out and the muscle disappearing into ash as she moves towards me.

'Have you looked at yourself recently?' Margaret says, her neck retracted like a burnt body, her hair drifting off into ash. I watch dark lines creep up her face like ivy.

'What does that mean?' I question, moving towards her.

My skin prickles under the heat of the flames and Margaret's body turns to ash, leaving me alone. The flames start to spread along the floor and push me into the middle of the room. The flames reach closer and I pray for my death to be quick but the flames snuff out, leaving me in darkness. My fear builds as I wait for the hands to reach out for me, my heart leaping in my throat. I can hear my breathing and wish for light. Flames leap out of the floor and heavy smoke clogs the air, I sit down and watch the flames. The heat surrounds me, sending my throat burning but the flames remain still. The smoke grew denser, obscuring my sight and filling my lungs.

I wake up coughing, doubled over and notice the photo again in my lap, I pick it up.

'You did this?' I yell at house, shaking the photo, looking for someone to blame. 'Why are you helping her?'

I get up to hit house when I notice myself in the mirror. Long curly brown hair, straight fringe, round cheeks and those deep blue eyes. I look down at the photo in my hand and back to the mirror.

'Mum.' I call shakily.

Mum shuffles her way in, rubbing her eyes. 'Yes sweetie.' She chirps.

'Why do I look exactly like her?'

She freezes 'Who?' Mum asks innocently.

I hold up the photo. 'Margaret. Why do I look like her?' I can feel my frustration burning beneath the surface.

'Family traits?' Mum squeaks, fidgeting with her fingers.

'Bullshit.' My words explode out, my body tense.

Mum glances between me and the picture, chewing on her lower lip. She closes her eyes and sighs. 'I guess you're ready. You are her.'

My anger deflates like a balloon, fear grips me, digging its nails deeper into my skin. 'No.' I yell. 'That's impossible, I can't be her, she died in 1932.' My mouth stammers through my facts.

Mum grabs my hand and leads me back to bed. 'No sweetie, you died in that fire. It was the first day of September and you were playing in this tower with my dollhouse. You always wanted that dollhouse in your room. But I refused because I was worried you would break it. So you used to sneak in when no one was looking. You knocked the candle over with your foot, and it caught on the cloth, sending flames up towards the old timber. In a matter of moments the windows were engulfed and I heard you screaming 'Mummy. Help me.' I ran off to you. You were standing in the middle of the room, frozen, you kept saying 'I didn't mean to, Mummy, I didn't mean to' over and over again. I tried to drag you but you wouldn't move and when a timber fell in front of the door, we were trapped. You looked up at me and I told you that it was going to be okay and I held you close to me until...until...the end. It was an accident sweetie.' Mum wraps her arms around me, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I rip out of her arms, my head storming and the words drum around my head. My hands shake.

'You're lying.' I seethe. 'That can't be true.'

'Maggie, look at me, there are tears in my eyes, my heart is heavy and I am sorry to have kept this from you but you have to believe me, I am telling you the truth.'

'No, you're not.' I shake my head, trying to remove the doubt from my mind. 'I'm not Margaret. I'm not DEAD!' I storm out my window and onto the tiles, the rain is shooting down, exploding onto my back, I am soaked and I hear mums voice break as she calls her name but I hide in the shadows. My body shakes as the anger simmers off me into the cold night air. My breathing steadies as smoke wafts past me, the smell of charcoal clogs my lungs and I cough. She appears at my side, her dirty feet on display underneath her torn pale blue dress. I look at her as she looks at me, hair plastered to her face, her dress sticking to her skin like glue. A mirror reflection.

'Don't you ever wonder why you are different?' Margaret smirks.

'I thought I was meant to help you.' I mutter closing my eyes but the image has already branded itself into my mind.

'Then help me.' She whispers in my ears. I turn to see the wafting smoke being punctured by the rain.

'Help me understand why no one talks to you outside the house? Why you keep dreaming about fire?'

'How do you know that?' I shout out.

'I know everything.' She giggles, a thin, cracked smile spread across her lips.

'Stay away from me.' I yell.

'Unfortunately I can't,' she shrugs 'not until you remember. Please come with me.' She walks towards me with her arms outstretched, the rain drips slowly off her.

I search for an escape route. 'Margaret.' I stammer. 'Can you answer me something?'

She pauses. 'Of course.'

I take a deep breath. 'Why me?'

She scoffs. 'Why do you have to be so stubborn, why can't you just accept it. Think hard Margaret.' The name snaps out of those cracked lips

My eyes light up at a forgotten memory, Margaret laughs. 'Shall we reminisce?'

'Ash hitting your face.' Smoke wafts around her as she moves towards me.

I stumble on the slick tiles, saved by the guttering. 'This isn't real.' I whisper to myself. I watch her lips move in time with mine. 'I can't be dead.'

'Smoke clogging your lungs.'

'I'm a normal girl, aren't I?' I scream. 'This can't be it.'

'Heat prickling your skin.'

I can feel the tears sliding down my face, masked by the rain.

'Flames ravaging your flesh.'

'Stop, please stop.' I whisper, she stands toe to toe with me. My fear is reflected at me. 'I remember, please just let me go.'

Her grin grows wide 'Okay.' She says.

I take a deep breath but she pushes me off the roof. The air rushes past me as the roof recedes. Margaret stands at the edge of the roof, a look of calm upon her face. I close my eyes and reminisce.

It's hard to avoid the Monton mansion. Built in 1828, this double storey black brick building stands askew. Ivy crowds the front of house, creeping up and wrapping around the square front porch. A tower spiralling up to the heavens, stares you down as you walk past. Shutters held firmly closed for most of the year, but sounds drifted out. The iron gates stood guard around the house, its gate creaking for each arrival. They say those that go in never come out, that the house is its own manifestation of fear. But those are just stories, aren't they?