"Work, damn you!" Chiara turned the ignition on one more time, but the vehicle was far too stubborn. It roared, alive for a moment, and then died instantly. The Italian frowned. It was no use. Her car was dead. In the middle of the road. Far away from any repair shops.

She'll have to call Alfred. He was good at fixing things. But then again, it was what – midnight? – and he was probably asleep.

Running a hand through her chocolate brown locks, she looked around. There was a bed and breakfast at her right and a forest to her left. How lucky of her. Her car stopped next to a bread and breakfast; what a coincidence! She'll stay here for the night and in the morning she'll call Alfred.

Exiting the car, she shoved her keys into her dress pocket and went on into the dainty little building.

The inside was nice – the wooden walls and furniture were polished, a flat screen TV hung at the side, and there was a small bar right across the door with a man dressed finely behind the counter.

When the man caught her gaze, he smiled. "Can I help you?"

Chiara nodded. "Yes. My car broke down while passing and it would be nice if someone would push it in your parking lot. Also, I'd like a room to stay in."

The man's expression darkened for a moment, which confused Chiara, but the smile came back – a little forced, if she must say. "Alright. I'll send my staff to fetch your car." He brought out a key and handed it to Chiara, "Here. You room is at the end of the hall at the right side. And whatever you do, don't look into the room next to yours no matter what. Understood?"

Slightly perplexed by the directions, she couldn't help but wonder what was in the room. It's not like she was planning to look in there, though. Why would she, anyways? Still, she nodded and went upstairs to her room.

As she passed by the doors, she stopped. Gooseflesh had started to rise on her arms. Strange, she thought. She guessed the eerie silence of the hall was the cause. It was far to. . . unsettling. So, she just continued on.

"You're here," a voice whispered into her ear. "Let's play, okay?"

Chiara whipped her head to the voice's direction, startled. No one was there. Was it just her imagination? It must be. There was no one there, after all. What else could have said that?

Taking a deep breath, she pressed herself on. Yes, it was her imagination. It was late at night – she was completely tired and obviously needed a nice, long siesta. But still, something at the back of her mind told her: "It was real. Run."

When she passed the room before hers, she felt a cold chill run up her back. "What the hell," she muttered to herself. What could have made that extreme coldness back there? Still, as curious as she was, she remembered the man's words and ignored her curiosity. She was a lady of her word, after all.

She opened the door to her room and flipped the light switch open. She took a moment to observe her surroundings – a queen-sized bed, an oak coffee table with matching chairs, and plain blue curtains hanging at the sides of a window. Not bad. But still, it was quite plain.

She trudged to the bed and flopped on top. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Alfred lived in the city and she lived in the country-side with her sister. It was obvious it would take a while for him to come. After all, she was driving home from work (she worked in an office at the heart of the city) before her car broke down. Then after he fixes the car and she finally drives back home, her sister would instantly shoot her with questions for hours. She won't get a break. Good thing it was a Sunday tomorrow. She didn't have to go to work. Lord knows what she'll do when she's pushed to her limit.

"Don't sleep now," a voice said. "We still haven't had fun yet."

Chiara's eyes snapped open. She whipped her head to the voice. It was a girl who looked around in her early teens. She had light brown braids and a smile on her face. She would have looked normal if it wasn't for the lack of eyes.

Chiara let out an ear piercing scream and instantly sat up. "Oh my frickin- Who the hell are you!?"

The girl's smile widened and she climbed onto the bed, looming over the startled Italian. She had no feet, but that didn't stop her – she was literally floating above her!

"Glad you asked! I'm Angelica. I'm a girl just like you so we can get along just fine! We can talk about lots of things – photography, nature, food. . . Oh, yes! I especially love talking about food!"

"Okay. . ." Chiara took in a deep breath, held, and then released. "Angelica. . . would you please explain what is going on?"

Angelica clapped her hands. "Goody! You're not running away. Finally, someone who's not a pussy. I've been trying to communicate with some for ages, but they keep running away!"

"I'm guessing it's because of your appearance," Chiara observed the teen. Aside from the lacking of legs and eyes, she wore a torn yellow dress. "I mean, who wouldn't run away from you? You look like a ghost. Which I am guessing you are?"

"Pretty much. I was killed here a long time ago and now I'm stuck here. It gets lonely here in the afterlife. No one comes to talk to me and when I try to talk to them, they run away." Tears began to well at the side of Angelica's hollow eye sockets. "You're the only one who managed to stay and chat. So, thank you."

Chiara rubbed the back of her neck. She felt sorry for the kid. "Okay, never mind explaining," she stated. "How about we talk? Like what you wanted? I'm Chiara and I like clothes. Can we talk about that?"

Angelica's pale face brightened. She wiped the tears away and floated down to meet Chiara's gaze. "Sure thing! I don't mind."

The Italian smiled and crossed her legs. "Okay, let's see. . ."

. . .

"Alright, I'm off." Chiara said, handing the key and payment to the man behind the counter.

The man smiled and nodded, accepting the items. "Yes, thank you for staying. Visit us again."

"Yes, I will." Chiara turned to leave. After all, Angelica will be lonely without me.

"Ah, wait. Before you leave, may I ask you a question?"

"Hm? Yes, what is it?"

"How did you manage to stay the night? Honestly, everyone who stays here doesn't even last ten minutes. They leave right away. Didn't you see. . . the ghost?"

"Si. I did see her, but I had nothing to fear. Why would I run away from such a sweet girl?" The brunette brushed a lock of stray hair behind her ear. "Looks can be deceiving."

"Ah." The man blinked. "How would you know?"

"I talked to her. She's good company. She has a lot to say after all these years. Don't be afraid. She's nice. She wouldn't hurt a fly. Try talking to her – you won't regret it."

With that said, she walked off, leaving a confused bed and breakfast owner behind.

A/N:

I don't know, I just. . . felt like writing horror. . . but I ended up writing this instead. By the way, the ending is after Alfred fixed her car lol.