Authors Notes: No notes at the minute, apart from saying hi to Corvus Corvidae, and letting him know I'm starting my story now, the one taht he helped me greatly with!
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, and I'm surprised I came up with this idea...I was in a horror mood but this is only going to be short!
How did you die Garfield?
Did you die in this house?
Why do you remain?
Three questions. Three answers. Three long answers.
I was an innocent girl running away from the usual teasing. Well, maybe not innocent, but I used to get teased a lot.
Just because I was gothic, or dark.
They were throwing things at me these bullies. So I ran.
My father would have beat me if I went to him, my mother left a long while ago.
I just ran until I came to a house. It was big, and old – probably haunted, but I wanted away from these vulgar beasts.
I tried the handle desperately, hoping it was unlocked.
Someone up there loves me! It was open. Luckily.
I ran through the house, hoping to go straight through and out the back, climb over the fence and run some more, but the door slammed it self behind me off its own accord.
At the time, I didn't think much of it, but looking back, it seems odd, to say the least.
The interior of the house was rather grand. I thought that some rich guy would have owned it – before he died of course. This house was plainly abandoned and desolate.
I felt the presence of someone with me, and I spun round.
No-one.
I thought I was just imaging it, but then a floorboard creaked up above.
Again, I thought I was being silly.
I thought that I might as well have an explore – the bullies are cowards…they won't come in here…I hope.
I looked at the falling staircase, and decided on that.
It was a large house, as I said before, and it had more than two floors.
Following the winding staircase, I took to the first floor.
The floor was dusty and grey, and the wallpaper peeling. I wondered how long the owner had been dead, or how long the house had been abandoned.
"Hello." A voice from above sounded.
I looked up, and saw a boy clinging onto the ceiling. It scared me, but I tried my best not to show it.
"W…Who are you?" I breathed.
He jumped down, and walked towards me. It was only now I noticed his appearance.
He had green hair, and green eyes, but he wasn't alive. It was obvious he was dead.
The boy's skin was cut, and he had a limp, yet something about him was foreboding.
As he advanced on me, I took steps backwards.
I remember his words exactly; "I am 'the changeling'. I can change my form, yet I do not live. I am not from your time. I am from long ago."
"What's your name?"
I had stopped backing away, but he was still walking towards me. I remember feeling unimaginable fear.
"Garfield Logan – yours?"
"Rachel Roth."
I actually felt like I was getting to know this corpse, he seemed okay.
"You're probably afraid of me. No need to be – I'm only dead, not a murderer."
And that lead to my first question.
"How did you die, Garfield?"