Thomas parked his car in the driveway and stepped out, looking at the house. It was bigger than it had seemed on the site. It was three stories high and was a sort of beige colour. It was a rather old-looking house and ivy was growing on the sides of the walls. It wasn't exactly his type of house, and seemed far too big now that he was face to face with it but he didn't want to live in something too similar to his apartment.

He searched his pockets for the key, and in a moment of panic, he'd thought he'd lost it. It wasn't in his pockets. Where was it then?

He rushed over to the car. Praying that it was in there, he searched the car as quickly as he could. His heart was beating like a drum. Where the hell was it?

Finally his freezing hands wrapped around something that felt a hell of a lot like a key. He breathed a sigh of relief. He'd thought he'd lost it. Goddamn memory. It was too bloody slow. He remembered now that he'd left it in one of the compartments.

Thomas slotted the key into the lock and turned it. He pushed it open carefully and stepped inside. The inside was the complete opposite from the outside. It was a modern furnishings (he assumed the last owners had left their stuff there for some reason or other), with a TV in the sitting room and a radio in the kitchen. The kitchen was sparkling clean. There was a large window looking out onto the surprisingly small garden. The countertop was made of marble and the microwave looked as though it had just been bought a day or so previously. The radio was on the countertop and so was the toaster.

The sitting room had a mirror (which looked like an antique) on the wall across from the doorway and a stove beneath it, which was also remarkably clean. The sofas were a cream colour and the pillows were black. He walked upstairs, feeling as though he needed a long nap.

The bedroom was also furnished in a modern way. There was a double bed (he'd change that to a single as soon as possible) which was cream with black pillows. The curtains were that same cream colour and the desk in the corner of the room was beige. He wondered where the moving vans were, considering none of this furniture was his stuff. He sat down on the bed, the weariness beginning to overcome him.

There was a knock on the door. Thomas groaned. He just wanted a rest. Not to talk to some passerby or welcoming visitor. Bloody hell. He really needed that rest. But he reluctantly dragged his exhausted legs down the stairs. He opened the door, really not in the mood for this and was about to open his mouth and tell the person to get lost but they started first. "Hello," a shrilly high-pitched voice said.

The speaker was a five foot five brown-haired woman with ebony skin. She smiled at Thomas, who made a weak attempt to smile back. "I'm Tasha," she said, the smile still fixed firmly on her face. Thomas wanted to go back up to bed still, but he decided to give her a chance to speak. "You're the first person in about, well, fifty years to move into that house," she said, gesturing to the house. He couldn't care less if someone hadn't moved the house in a hundred years. He just wanted to go to bed.

"Of course, I only know what my momma told me," she said,"But it's probably not been bought by anyone round these parts because of him." Who? Thomas would've been more curious if he hadn't been so tired. "It's bout time someone bought it though. It'd probably be gettin lonely," she said, as though she knew everything about the house, which Thomas found rather irritating. She probably knew more about it than him but did she really have to show off about it?

"I just wan'ed to welcome you," she said, still keeping the smile on her face even though Thomas wasn't smiling anymore,"And give you a word of advice." "Yes?" Thomas said, feeling even more exhausted and cranky. Her face seemed to darken slightly and the air almost seemed to have gotten a few degrees colder. "Just stay out of the attic, kay?" she said in a hushed tone. Thomas nodded slowly, wondering why he should stay out of it. He opened his mouth to ask but she interrupted him. "Hope you like the house," she said in a sing-song voice,"See ya later." Thomas just nodded and watched her leave.

He had to get into that attic. Had to find out what was in there. He shook his head, trying to clear it of those thoughts. Crazy woman. He'd go up to the attic when he wished. It was as safe as any other part of this godforsaken house. Thomas shut the door and quietly walked back up to his room, deep in thought. He nearly tripped over a step on the staircase, being to focused in on what he was thinking to pay attention to where he was going.

When Thomas sat down on the bed for the second time, he found he couldn't sleep. He was too alert... too afraid to fall asleep. What was the point of sleeping anyway? He'd just arrived at the house, it would make more sense to explore the house - and the attic. No, he wouldn't step foot in that attic.

Why? He didn't really believe the crazy superstitions of an odd neighbour, did he? What could be up in that attic that would be the reason to stay out of it though? Thomas tried to think of something else instead, something like how glad he was that he hadn't lost his car keys, something that didn't involve the attic. But the more he tried to think of something other than the attic, the more he found himself thinking of it.

He had to get out of the house. Yes, that was it. It was the house that was making him think of the bloody attic. Not in a superstitious way (of course), not as though the house was making him thinking of it, but more of being in the house was making him curious about the attic. Thomas stood up and walked downstairs as quickly as he could without jogging. Why was he running? This was a perfectly normal house. He tried to slow his step, trying to reassure himself that he was not afraid.

Thomas pushed the door open and stepped outside to the chilly air. He felt uneasy still but a little bit calmer. His stomach still felt as though it was after tying itself into knots but the knots felt like they were slowly unraveling. Slowly but surely. He let out a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He glanced up at the house, and it seemed like just an normal old house, just like any other house on the street. Just a normal old house. Nothing to worry about.

He felt as though someone (or something) was staring at him and he turned slightly, to get a better view. Sure enough, Tasha's black eyes were focused on him, and she was carrying a bundle of clothing in her hands. She wasn't smiling, like she had been previously, just watching, silently and wordlessly... but that was more terrifying than her warning. She turned away, the clothes clutched to her chest as tightly as possible.

His gaze stayed on where she had been for a while before he turned away and walked off, ignoring the car. He didn't feel like driving at all and was taking this opportunity to stretch his legs. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, and shivered slightly from the cold. Just the cold. Not some creepy woman who'd been watching him previously, not some terrifying warning which chilled him to his bones, not the attic, which he'd been warned about but still felt so drawn to it and most certainly not the house that he had chosen to stay in, to take a rest from those painful memories that always bothered him at his old apartment.

He wanted to explore the town a bit more. He'd only just arrived after all, and he was probably (probably, not definitely) going to be here for a while (not forever... this place gave him the shivers) so he'd better get to know the citizens and where everything was (why didn't he just leave if this place terrified him so much? Wouldn't that be the smart thing to do?). He walked slowly, as though some part of him was reluctant to go anywhere, as though he just wanted to take a rest and stay in bed for the rest of the day. He didn't have to get up early anymore, so why not just take a rest?

He was curious about the town though. He wanted to explore it (no, he couldn't care less about the town, he just wanted to stay away from the house). And stay away from the house he would.