Ghost of you

Message me, Moon

Brendon frowned. At first he thought it was Tyler messaging him. He knew about Tyler's multiple personality disorder and that he had several different Skype accounts for the different people he can turn into. The most ominous, and the one Brendon assumed messaged him, was Blurryface. A trouble maker and overall creepy personality of Tyler's that would sometimes message the most disturbing things. However, he went by Blurryface on Skype so this couldn't be him.

Breadstick: Hey? Who is this?

Unknown: ¥ou ;don't need( that inf0rmation, m0on€.

Breadstick: Moon? That's not my name. I'm going to call the police.

Unknown: You' can @call m(e% Sun

Breadstick: Um okay? Well I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Sun.

—Breadstick has left the chat room—

Unknown: I"ll $see y0u soon&, M0on(

—Unknown has left the chat room—

Brendon shut his computer, too nervous about this mysterious person being able to watch him through the camera to continue messing around on it. He didn't know how much this person could see and he didn't want to find out.

'Maybe tomorrow will be better' Brendon thought to himself as he pulled the blanket over his shoulders and closed his eyes. His mind drifted away to sleep.

Brendon opened his eyes to the familiar setting. Nothing around except the house in front of him. To the left, a black abyss. To the right, the same story. There was no point in looking behind him since Brendon knew it would be nothing but the black abyss that surrounded him and this house.

But this time Brendon was determined. He pushed open the gate and marched through the overgrown garden, occasionally pushing weeds out of his way, until he could hear the deafening screams slipping through the worn house and broken windows. He almost wanted to turn back, wait out the dream until morning, but he couldn't. Not after he heard the voice inside say something other than screaming.

"Moon!"

His eyes widened. Was this just his anxiety about the mystery messenger mixing with his dreams? It had to be.

Brendon grabbed the rusted doorknob and flung the door open. He was met with an eerie silence. The screaming had suddenly stopped, it was like all noises that had or could happen ceased to exist.

The floorboards broke the silence as Brendon walked in, they creaked and groaned under his weight as he continued inside. The hallway was dusty and old with cobwebs all over the walls, corners, furniture, and staircase that went to a second floor of which Brendon could see the balcony for. The air seemed to grow colder as he moved to the stairs, to the window where he had seen the boy, or at least he thought he saw a boy, when they first arrived. The boards of the stairs seemed in an even worse state than the floor as he climbed up, shivering in the freezing air, fear and curiosity fueling his trek until he made it to the top where he began to hear soft humming filing the silence with its beautiful melody. He followed it down the hall to the very end. It felt like he had stepped through a time machine when he reached the pure white door, the only thing that seemed to be intact. He could hear the humming on the other side of the door closing his eyes to listen as his hand made its way to the brass doorknob.

The knob was smooth and almost warm as Brendon put his hand around the knob and slowly pushed it open the tension in the air breaking and a warm gust of breeze seemed to hit his face as the door revealed the room on the other side.

The room was set up just like any other room, just like the door it was in perfect condition. There was a white bed on the right side of the room with several pillows and blankets neatly placed on the bed, a desk right in front of the window that faced Brendon with books, papers, and writing utensils in a cup organized on the desk, a large bookshelf to the left filled with books and trinkets from who knows where, and a closet next the the bookshelf. The humming, to Brendon's dismay, had stopped and left him in peaceful silence completely opposite to the silence he experienced outside the room. He felt drawn to the bed as he walked into the room and onto the soft carpet in the middle of the room. He walked over to the bed noticing a notebook lying on top of it. Brendon decided it was wrong to snoop through someone's notebook, or maybe it was just the influence of his dreaming state that made him decide not to look, but instead he decided to climb onto the bed. Brendon curled up under the covers and closed his eyes hoping that he might wake up if he just concentrated hard enough.