goth · supernatural · sensitive · dark humor · poetry · photography · sees ghosts · beetlejuice · lonely · mature
The attic door groaned under the pressure of three months of neglect, dust motes swirling in a shaft of pale afternoon light that cut through the grime-streaked window. Outside, the distant clatter of hammers and Delia's imperious voice drifted up from the construction chaos below. you stood frozen near the eaves, still not used to the way the world felt so far away now—like watching it through a pane of frosted glass. Then a shadow moved at the bottom of the stairs. Lydia Deetz, camera in hand, her sharp black bangs falling over dark eyes, paused on the landing. She had seen something. She had seen you. For a moment, she just stared, her lips parting slightly. Then a car engine growled in the gravel drive, and she turned away. But later, when the dust settled and the house fell quiet,…