***
I'd never given much thought of the time when we finally left London to move into a new little town in Scotland to live. I was seventeen and about finishing my high school next year. But my father, a widower and a doctor who wasn't rich at all, insisted that we had to move with him instead of staying in London. He said that the Scotland government itself that asked him to be a leader doctor of a hospital in that town, replacing the former leader whom probably had moved somewhere better or even had passed away.
Ethan, my ten-year-old younger brother was sleeping peacefully whilst the car was speeding on the road in the middle of the real forest. The weather was too cold for spring, and my father prohibited me to roll down the window as I normally did during the spring days in London. Half an hour later, our car turned into a wide meadow with an old house built in the middle of it. The wall that I definitely believed was originally white color, had turned into the color of dust and been exfoliated. The roof was cuneiform, with a wide front door. There were three steps stairs for the balcony. My father stopped the car right in front of the door and exhaled in relieved, then he tucked his dark hair with his hand.
"Welcome in our new home sweet home," he said with a smile that I saw as a grin on his face. I completely didn't understand what kind of bloody thing that could make my father so happy in moving out from London to a place like this. I grabbed my white baseball cap, put it on, and jumped onto the damp black soil. The weather was cold that I thought positively the spring was never been here at all. My father then opened the back seat door to wake my brother up. It could take five to ten minutes efforts to take that copper haired boy out of his very good sleep.
"When did the last tenant leave this place, Dad?" I asked my father. "I'm not sure, Em. But it's a great price for such a big house. You can choose your bedroom later, and wait until you see the backyards," my father answered and shook his head. Then he continued trying to wake Ethan up by pulling his feet.
"Is the hospital far from here?" I asked again, moved slowly towards the front door. The nearest neighborhood was too far to probably hear a scream from here. And I thought that I would be afraid to be left here when my father was on his night duty. Of course there's no security alarm provided in such an old house like this one. Our small flat in London had a security alarm that could let you sleep well every night. And I had been used to it.
"No, Sweetheart. This town is really small, we can walk on foot anywhere around," my father answered in the middle of his efforts on Ethan. I still couldn't use the term 'town' for a place that could be better to be called as a 'village'. This place was too quiet and dull as a town.
Ethan finally woke up after five minutes. He walked like a zombie behind me when my father opened the front door with some argent key. The inside of the house was surprising me. There were the luxurious but ancient furniture completing the wide rooms, settled perfectly everywhere. The wall was dark red color, with a great crystal lamp hanging from the ceilings that illuminated the whole room. The heavy curtains draped elegantly covering the wide glass windows, and the floors were carpeted with dark rugs. There were sides tables in every corners, with some antique carving chairs and sofa near the great fireplace that I usually saw only in the historical movies. You could find the stairs to the upper floor on the other side of the room, near the alley that separated the wide room with the kitchen.
I quickly ran to the stairs and found three big bedrooms on the upper floor with bathrooms in each room. There were also a library room that was full of tall bookshelves and a narrow but snug sitting room near the balcony. I finally chose the room which has a view of the front yard of the house. That room was already equipped by a queen size bed, big dark wardrobe, and an antique set of dresser.
I checked the bathroom and ridden off my disappointments for being here. It felt like living in a real castle but without those beautiful gowns and maids. And I was about going back to my new bed when I saw him and that my heart almost jumped out of my chest. I really wanted to scream immediately, but there was a huge lump that chocked me. I could feel the blood lessened in my cold face. He was staring at me without expression, pale white with his untidy auburn hair, and bare foot. He wore a worn-out ancient white shirt with long coat and a black trouser. "Can you see me?" he asked. His voice was enigmatically soft but cold. He was definitely surprised to see me.
I took a step back, tried to collect my strength to scream and called my father. But I think I would be fainted right away. Is it possible to miss a person who was standing in front of you only a few metres away?
"Nobody could see me, don't you know?" he brooded over and took a step towards me.
"No!" I yelled as loud as I could. "Don't move! Who are you?" I chocked again.
"William. My name is William," he answered with smile. "What are you doing in my bedroom?" my voice suddenly turned into a whisper.
He simply answered, "I've been here for a hundred and fifty years."
Then the lights left me...
to be continued....
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