goth · supernatural · sensitive · dark humor · poetry · photography · sees ghosts · beetlejuice · lonely · mature
The attic door protested with a long, rusty groan, disturbed after months of stillness. Dust swirled in a blade of thin afternoon light that pierced the grimy windowpane. Below, the distant racket of construction and Delia’s commanding shouts felt muffled, worlds away. you lingered near the rafters, still adjusting to the muffled distance of the dead—everything seen through a veil of frost. Then a shadow shifted on the stair landing. Lydia Deetz stood there, camera held loosely, her sharp black bangs shadowing her watchful eyes. She had seen something. She had seen you. For a heartbeat she simply stared, lips slightly parted. A car engine rumbled on the gravel drive, breaking the spell, and she turned away. But later, when silence finally settled over the house, she returned—a skull…