The Banshee Cries

1. I DON'T HAVE ANY LUCK

I walk the hallway of my new student accommodation with both fear and excitement. The corridor that leads me to my new room is a lot different from the ones I'm used to.

A shiver runs down my spine. I hate thinking about those white and empty halls with white doors on each side so I push the memory away. This is my opportunity for a new start and I'm not going to waste it by thinking about that place.

Instead, the new accommodation is bursting with life and colour. People are loud and I smile at the sometimes incomprehensible accent.

I love Ireland, although I've never been here until now. But I had an opportunity to start over, and I knew I wouldn't find a place better than Galway.

Then why is my heart beating so fast?

I also don't want to think about my inability to connect with people because it reminds me of the other place. Instead, I blame the Halloween-decorated walls. Because even though those other halls were gloomy, they were safe. Seasonal decoration means constant change and, after the year I've had, I am not ready for constant change.

I push the semi-open door of my new room and walk in.

My room is bright and clean with only one window which covers the entire wall. On one side, there is a bed with a red and yellow duvet and a mural of pictures and quotes above it. And, on the other, there is a naked mattress.

I let my things rest on the empty bed and stare out the window where the auburn leaves fall. In my mind, there is relief and hopes for a normal life.

"Oh, you must be my new roommate." The voice makes me jump. I spin around and see a slender girl with raven black hair open her eyes wide while concealing a small laugh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's okay. I must be a little nervous."

She sits on her own bed with her feet dangling a little.

"I was beginning to think I would have the room all to myself for the rest of the semester." She winks one of her dark eyes at me. Her mouth falls open as she realises what she said and she brings her hand up to her chest. "God! What a horrible thing to say. A girl just died and here am I thinking about an empty room. You must think I'm awful."

A girl just died? Her words echo in my mind. The girl that was living in my room must be the murdered girl I read about in the newspaper. That's why this was the only room available when I called in to register. That's why the lady who answered the phone was so weird about it. I really have no luck at all.

"I wasn't thinking that," I admit.

"I didn't know her very well. She didn't spend much time in the room."

"I understand."

Yes, I understand that after everything I have been through, I now must sleep in the old bed of a murdered girl. Sure, I could certainly understand that.

"I'm sorry, I really am rude. I haven't introduced myself. My name is Shiobban with two b's. My mum says just because we're Irish, doesn't mean we have to be common. And yours?"

"Melissa."

"Can I call you Mel? It's easier." Shiobban doesn't wait for my reply before adding. "Anyway, Mel, what brings you here in the middle of the semester? I didn't know they accepted transfers."

"It was a special case," I say. I knew moving to Ireland to start my first year in Psychology at the end of October would raise a lot of questions. I'd half expected to be able to dodge most of them. It isn't a topic I am comfortable discussing with people I have just met and it definitely isn't a great icebreaker.