Chapter 3

Zoey looked up the stairs once again. Mama was imagining it, right? Or maybe the ghost was her husband. Maybe he left along with her. A multitude of comforting thoughts circuited their way through her head. Don't worry it's alright. She took time to breathe.

"Just as your therapist said, sometimes you take too many things to heart." Zoey placed both hands in her hair and she began to make her way to her newly refined bedroom. It was the only thing of hers that arrived early so she had to wait to access things, like a TV, silverware, and food. The only thing that garnished the house was a fridge, stove, and some countertops. Zoey sighed. As she realized one thing. She had to go upstairs

The stair looked almost like any other. A dark wood, decorated with a dark red stair runner. The thing was, it wasn't like any stair. At the top was rumored to be a ghost. No specifications, just a ghost. C'mon now, Zoey! The woman slowly makes her way to the staircase, ready to run through whatever haunted that specific area. I'm thirty-one and scared of some kind of ghost. Heh, Amire would stick her nose up at me. Still trying to brace herself, Zoey's mind tried to find something else to direct itself to. Hopefully, my stuff comes tomorrow, if I'm not dead... pshhh, I'm not gonna die, right? Her breathing picked up as the clock that settled above the fireplace mantle continued to tick. It was eight thirty-three in the afternoon, but dark all the same. That was the last thing she noticed before running up the haunted stairs.

Nothing.

Zoey opened her eyes to see exactly that. There she stood at the top of the stairs. Looking down at the floor below her.

"Heh, guess there was nothing." She slowly wrapped her arms around her body for comfort. Thank God. Maybe the ghost did leave with the old lady. After relieving her mind from pacing, Zoey made her way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Upstairs was completely different from what she remembered. Instead of downstairs, the second floor was painted pale goldenrod with dark brown accents to match. The exhausted woman sighed, when she lived here, she barely went up after her mother's disappearance. Since she constantly left the house, she relocated her main room to the guest room downstairs. Zoey could tell they darkened the wood with stain and replaced all the curtains to let light pierce through. All in all, she was glad it looked different. She didn't have to deal with tucked-away memories nor did she have to file them away herself. She pulled her hair back, drowsily making a way for her to brush her teeth. The feeling of each bristle seemed to make its own voice in her mouth. Maybe I should head to the store tomorrow. It's about time for a new toothbrush. Her thoughts continued to be like this as she brushed. Gargling and spitting, before slipping into her soft fluffy covers to fall asleep.