The Trail (MAJOR EDITING IN PROGRESS)

Part 1: Fall (Edited)

My finger twitched and I opened up four new tabs and began searching Youtube, Tumblr, Reddit, and even Vine for any shred of the trail's existence. The Ghost Hunters International website only had a bit on the trail, and what it had, I already knew. The only way to find out about it was to go, or download Skype and have a chat with family members. But going would be more fun.

I opened up my email and typed out a quick message about the lack of sources and sent it. Then it was just to be a waiting game, to find out some more about the trail.

I shut my computer, and glanced at the homework on my floor, and then to the blue Samsung by my pillow.

"Holland or homework?" I asked the room.

I grabbed the cellphone and dialed his number. It was tough having a boyfriend in college so far away. Without our phone calls I don't know if I would have been able to get by, I only saw him a few hours a week

"Hello?" He asked in his monotone voice.

In response I answered in a chipper voice, "Hey, how's it going?"

"Good," he said curtly.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm doing fine." His voice picked up a bit of enthusiasm, and I smiled.

"That's good. So, what're you doing today?" I asked.

"Nothing much, you wanna come over?" I smiled, I would be able to see him and enjoy his company.

"Yes! Just let me ask my parents."

"Okay." I ran out my oak door and skipped into the kitchen to ask my mom if I could go.

As I walked in the room I heard the tell-tale sounds of fake mining from Mark's computer, playing the demo version of Minecraft, as always. The microwave beeped and when mom opened the door I caught the smell of melted cheese on nachos with homemade salsa.

The kitchen was separated by an island with a large white sink and black granite countertops. From there, my mom could survey the entire side of the house, almost. The large windows and cathedral ceiling made the place seem bigger than it was, thus, everyone wanted to spend time in the 'big room,' hence the reason why my mom could watch pretty much everything from the kitchen.

She was forty-seven and showed it gracefully. Her hair was going gray at the roots, slowly overtaking the blonde hair-dye she had used. She stopped using the dye because she wanted look her natural age, and I thought it looked much better on her than the blonde did.

"Hey mom, can I-"

"Go to Holland's?" She asked. Her brown eyes revealed a knowing intuition, which only mothers have. I nodded. "Ask your father." She then turned back to her nachos and placed the plate of chips and cheese in the microwave.

She let my dad handle anything dealing with the opposite sex. One time, in order for my male friend and I to go to a movie together, my friend had to come to the front door and speak with my dad about boundaries before being allowed to take me.

"Ask me what?" He came out of the laundry room carrying a white plastic basket that was filled with newly cleaned clothes.

"Dad, can I go to Holland's?"

"Is all your homework done?" He dumped the load of whites out and began folding.

"Yep, except a few questions I need to ask Mrs. Tallis about." Technically, this was true. I did have to ask her about the math I had left.

"Is it math?" He stopped and turned to me. My dad is a whiz at math even though he has a culinary degree. He could usually help me, but I hated how big a deal he made of it, so I hardly ever asked.