obsessed (AHS S1 - completed)

Chapter 13.

December 2011.

Rock music blasted as I entered my old room. 

I say 'my old room' because my dad had put this place on the market when Mom died, I guess he wanted to leave us here and start over, but it didn't last long since he had hung himself when new people came and visited the house. 

He didn't mean to do it on purpose Mom said, but things happen for a reason, I guess. 

It was the loud music however that drew me back to this room, loud rock music was being blasted by an old CD player. 

Man, whoever was moving in has horrible music taste.

I turned around suddenly when I heard an unfamiliar voice from behind me, "Who are you?" a tall Mexican boy stood in front of me, his black hair was in his face so he was fixing it every two seconds. 

"You have awful taste in music. Butthole Surfers?" 

I scoffed and went back to looking through the CD's he had stored in his shelf. 

"Hello? Breaking and entering. Who are you?" 

He walked closer towards me, I turned to face him. 

Wow, he was really good looking. 

I decided to be honest even if he thought it was a joke, "A ghost of my former self." he looked confused, "Maia. I live in the neighbourhood." that's a good cover up, right? 

He shook my hand but as he did he looked down with a shocked look on his face, 

"Your hand's cold." 

I picked up a box of CD's and began walking towards the bed sitting on it, I wanted to see what else this guy liked, 

"You know what they say. Cold hands, warm heart." 

I emptied his box of CD's onto his bed as he gasped in shock, 

"Yo!" 

I guess he didn't want me to empty it. 

Too bad, I wanted to see if this guy knew shit about music, the singers and songs. 

"Don't you have any Ramones? Like Animal Boy or Too Tough To Die?" 

I was picking through his CD's, he lifted his hand up for me to stop; 

I guess bro doesn't like that I'm in his room. 

"Hey. Get out of my room." 

"You sure you want to be alone? They say this house is haunted."

He smirked at me and shook his head, he was trying so hard not to laugh. 

"You're kind of twisted, aren't you?" 

"You don't know the half of it." I smiled at him, then I noticed something. 

Or someone. 

Tate was standing in the hallway against the wall, staring into the back of the boy's head. He looked like he was about to kill him, shooting daggers into his skull; it might've been more than daggers though..

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She's mine.

He can't be talking to her, she was mine and only mine. 

I wouldn't let it go on.

I didn't like the vibe I got from him, he was popular but also secluded from everyone, in his own little world.