Lavinia Williams liked to call herself “A good hearted, empathetic person”. She always did her chores when she was asked, she helped out her neighbors and went along with everything she was asked to do. Including, packing up their whole life and moving to Salem, Massachusetts. To Lavinia’s surprise, it was a bit rundown, and forgotten.
She pulled her curly black hair, as she always did when she was anxious.
The wind blew the shutters on their new house. The door creaked in the rough wind. The sky was gray, like the way the town felt. Lavinia simply sighed, picked up her boxes, and went inside. The old spruce flooring creaked as she walked into the kitchen. Her mother, Marita Williams, was laying flat on her back underneath the moldy sink, twisting away at something.

Lavinia set her boxes on the tan table that seemed like the only thing that worked right. “Mom?” She asked, trying not to step on the loose screws that covered the floor. “Hey, Sweetie!” Marita pushed herself out. Her white tank top was covered in oil. Her curly black hair was slick with grease. “I was fixing the sink. Is it just me, or does nothing seem to work right?” Marita laughed cheerfully. “Where do you want me to put my boxes?” Lavinia asked, sitting down on a wobbly kitchen chair. “Upstairs in your room is fine. The first door on the left is yours.” Marita tried to straighten out her shirt.

“This sink leaks.” She muttered, before going back to fixing the rusty, leaking sink. Lavinia sighed. “Be careful with the rust, Mom.” She said, before picking up the boxes and heading upstairs. The door hung loose on one hinge, making it impossible to shut the door properly. Her room was one of those rooms that seemed like someone had died in it. And their spirit never left. Peeling white wallpaper.

Windows covered in…something.  Lavinia couldn’t tell what. Setting the boxes down, she took a bucket full of soapy water Marita was using to clean and scrubbed the windows. The windows made strange noises, as if the house refused to be cleaned. By the time she was done, her fingers were soaked and itchy after cleaning for so long. It felt like she would never be dry again.

But- at least the room was clean. As soon as she started unpacking- there was a knock on the door. Downstairs, Marita put on a red jacket to cover the grease and oil, then opened the door. A boy, about Lavinia’s age by the looks of it, stood there, holding a plate of chocolate chocolate chip cookies. Marita smiled gently. “I wanted to bring you a plate of cookies, to welcome you to Salem.” He said. Maybe it was just Marita being paranoid (one of her flaws), but to her it seemed like something was off.

Maybe it was because his blonde hair didn’t look right.  Or maybe it was because his shoelaces were untied. But whatever it was, something was strange about this boy. Pushing away her feelings, Marita welcomed him and invited him inside. “It feels like a storm is brewing.” She told him. The boy set the plate of cookies on the table. “Lavinia, come downstairs.” Marita yelled.

Lavinia slid down the stair rail, leaving a splinter in her thigh. She grimaced as she looked into the kitchen. Her mother was standing next to a boy. She shook his hand. “I’m Lavinia.” She stated, introducing herself. “T.J.” He smiled. Lavinia took a cookie and sat down, savoring the sweet flavor. “What brings you to Salem?” T.J asked. Marita left the room, leaving them to talk. “My mom found a job here. A mechanic.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize there was going to be a mechanic shop.”

“There isn’t one yet?”

“That explains the construction. I suppose the town was due for a mechanic.”

Lavinia shifted uncomfortably. The silence was awkward and strange. TJ stood up.

“Well thanks for the cookies.” She said, walking him out the door. He waved goodbye and left. Lavinia took another cookie. Had he realized that they hadn’t been here before? At all? He acted like they were just moving back. Lavinia tugged at her hair. Marita came back, now wearing clean clothes. “He seems nice.” She stated. Lavinia nodded.

The next day happened to be Sunday, so Lavinia didn’t have to worry about the pressing matter of finding a school to go to. She swung on the squeaky swing set, wishing that the sun would shine. She had the feeling that she was being watched. It made her pull her hair. Suddenly,  twig snapped behind her. She quickly turned her head. 

Lavinia could’ve sworn that she saw a flash of brown hair. But nobody was there. It’s just this creepy town. Don’t worry about it. She told herself. She left the park, not giving a second thought to it. 

She made her way to the nearby gas station, where Marita had asked her to get some gas. Someone tapped her shoulder. Lavinia jumped and sun around. It was a boy. With short brown hair and strange orange eyes. “Help me…” He rasped, before fading into nothing.