Disclaimer: Hey I don't the characters and I don't claim the rights to them.
A/N: Hey Haley this is the first chapter, it's rough but I hope you like it.
Smoke filled a small dark bedroom. Soundgarden played softly through the haze, permeating the cloud and drifting about the room. Violet lay in bed, closing her eyes as she exhaled another smoke plume. The smoke put her body at ease. Ever since she'd moved into the old house, her body had felt constantly tense. Every sense was heightened.
The sense that someone is watching you? The feeling like someone is outside your bedroom door, about to turn the knob? The sensation that someone just touched your shoulder? The dread that exists when you sense that for some reason, you shouldn't be in that room or shouldn't look in that direction? Violet experienced those on an hourly basis.
Violet quietly sang along to the song. She couldn't help the creeping feeling that she shouldn't look in the corner next to her record player, so she stared up at the ceiling. She lay on her back on her bed, blowing a smoke ring into the air.
"Who are you?" She asked the ceiling? She cocked an eyebrow and nodded her head. "What do you mean by that? Explain yourself," she commanded sternly at the white paint. She listened for it's reply. It was talking stupid, not making any sense."It isn't," she counteracted the ceiling's vacuous response to her question. It fumbled on it's words, trying to explain itself. "Not a bit," she said as she took a drag and exhaled. "You!" She exclaimed, raising her voice. "Who are you?"
"I'm Tate," a disembodied voice answered by her record player. She didn't dare look. She tried to play it off, like what she was smoking was just stronger than she thought it was, that she was just baked. But she couldn't fool herself. Whatever she was smoking was not strong enough to induce voices.
She had to see him. She had to see who the voice belonged to, but that instinct to avoid the area, to deny his presence was strong. She licked her lips, readying herself to twist quickly. She breathed deeply. She counted in her head. 'one' she started to sweat. 'two' what was he? a murderer? 'three' She turned quickly, to see a tall blonde boy about her age standing, flipping through her music collection.
"What are you?" She asked immediately. It was a silly question. What would he be besides human? He had to be human. He looked human. So what if he had a strange aura about him that made him seem like something...different. He was human. He chuckled at the question.
"Well that's different than your other questions," he remarked. She grimaced. He was avoiding the question. Suddenly, it didn't seem so silly.
"I know you're not human," she said hesitantly, rising from her bed to move closer to him. He put down her Kooks album and stepped closer, his presence imposing yet somehow acquiescent and vacant. His stillness was unnerving. He stepped just inside the box of personal space everyone observed. A wild look in his eyes coupled with an impish grin made Violet's tongue go numb. He moved to whisper in her ear.
"What am I then?" He murmured. He moved behind her to brush her hair over her shoulders, but when she turned around, he was gone