Haunted

The First Week

"Thank you." Anadil responed, and there was something in her tone that held more than the words she spoke. Hester caught it.

"Do you have a lot of books, then?" Hester asked.

"All of my fathers old books remain in the library, though I find them dull. Over the years intruders started leaving things behind after running out." Anadil responded, turning the book over and examining the blurb.

"So you've been stealing people's books then?" Hester asked.

"Well only the books of those who break into my house, often with the intent of stealing my own belongings. It's only fair."

Hester laughed. "Nah, I'm not blaming you. They were asking for it."

Anadil looked thoughtful for a moment, before adjusting her grip on the stack of books.

"Would you like to see my stolen book collection?" She asked.

Hester was surprised by the offer, but not upset. "Hell, yeah, I would." She slid her hands into the pockets of her mother's jacket, nervously running her fingers over the loose bottlecap in the left pocket. She'd naturally wanted to see more of the house, but the prospect was still rather worrisome.

Anadil turned, once again mesmerizing Hester by the way the fabric of her nightgown caught in an imaginary breeze. She waved for Hester to follow her, and began to climb the old oak stairs, which creaked terribly under Hester's boots, and were silent under Anadil's steps.

They climbed one flight, and Hester found herself in a hallway, looking around at the second floor. Just as pristine as the first, with a number of doors- she just wanted to explore, but knew it wasn't the time yet. Anadil walked ahead to a door at the far end of the hall, and opened it to another, much steeper flight of stairs. She began climbing them, and Hester followed.

It led to what must have been the attic. The ceiling slanted as the roof on the house did. There was a dark wood bed in the corner, piled with blankets that had intermitten holes and frayed edges. The bedside table next to it was piled high with an odd assortment of books.

Hester concluded that it was most certainly an attic when she saw the odd assortment of old furniture on the other side of the room. A dresser, rocking chair, a large table, and a vanity. They were all covered with the strangest assortment of things. Anadil waved her over to a small bookshelf.

Hester walked over and knelt next to it, examining the books. There must have been near fifty books in total, with titles ranging from The Princess Bride to The Hunger Games.

"Damn, this is pretty cool. You've got a lot." Hester cat her gaze to the bottom shelf, which hosted stacks of dirty looking romances with titles like Duke Til Dawn and How to Train your Princess. Hester grimaced.

"Those are the forsaken books. I disaprove of them, they're repulsive. I can't throw them out, so I put them all there." Anadil said, her voice holding clear disdain. She was standing by what Hester assumed was her bed. The room looked fairly lived in. She'd set the stack of Harry Potter books on the tattered blankets.

Hester laughed. "Fair enough. This your room?"

Anadil paused, before nodding. "I started sleeping here the night after I died. It's because it has the only window that didn't fog up." She pointed one ghostly finger at the circular window on the far side of the room, by the bed.

Hester walked over to it, standing next to Anadil. The window was relatively small, about the size of a school desk. It showed the clearing in front of the house, where Hester had been standing earlier. Hester sensed a sort of tension from Anadil, but didn't say anything.