Page 2 of Haunt Me

Chloe has been my best friend since we were both 14. I was the new girl when we moved from Alaska to Chicago. However, Chloe, being the bubbly, outgoing, and extroverted person she is, immediately took me under her wing. We have been inseparable ever since. She's the yin to my yang.

I shake my head and order a milkshake from Bobby—who makes the best shakes ever. I tried learning his technique, but his always tastes better. Chloe interrupts the moment by bringing up my parents.

"So, have you told them yet?"

Fuck sake Chloe.

“No, and I don’t plan on anytime soon.” I snap, already annoyed about where this is going.

“Star, your parents think you’re going to follow in their footsteps after law school—it’s just a matter of time before they find out you’ve been lying to them and I know just as well as anyone how your parents react to anything that's not according to them.”

I roll my eyes, ready to kick her out. “Honestly Chlo, I don’t give a fuck and I don’t want to talk about this—orthem right now. I get enough crap from my mother and I don’t need it from you too.”

Sighing, she gives me a look of empathy and decides to ignore the subject for now.

Thank God.

Both my parents—who are established lawyers in a well-known firm, naturally expect me to pursue a legal career like theirs. Little do they know, I’m studying criminology. My passion lies in understanding the criminal mind and the motivation behind criminal behavior.

From a young age, I was the daughter who could never quite measure up, the one who never seemed to meet my parents' lofty expectations. But it was mymother’s disapproving gaze that cut the deepest, her silent judgment carving a deep wound in my fragile heart.

I tried to be the daughter they wanted me to be. I excelled in school, poured my heart into my passions, and worked tirelessly to prove my worth. But no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough. My achievements were dismissed as insignificant, and the shadow of their unmet expectations overshadowed my efforts.

I just know they’re gonna lose their shit when they find out I will not be joining them.

Chloe and I spent a solid hour talking about school, the test that’s coming up, and how she wants to get shit-faced drunk after the exam. Which just made me laugh in agreement. I’m not usually the party girl type, but I need to unwind after this exam.

I’ve been so focused on my studies this year, that I can’t even recall the last time I went out with her.

As soon as I enter my house, the familiar aroma of home greets me. Pulling off my shoes, I make a beeline for the kitchen, the cool tiles soothing my bare feet, and flip the switch on the old, reliable kettle. The soft hum of the boiling water begins to fill the room, accompanied by the comforting scent of hot chocolate.

Eager to wash away the weariness of the day, I make my way to the bathroom, the warm light casting a gentle glow. The sound of water cascading from the showerhead echoes, drowning out the noise of the outside world. As the droplets meet my skin, I feel the tension melt away, replaced by a refreshing coolness. The scent of my favorite vanilla body wash fills the air, mingling with the steam that envelops me.

After the invigorating shower, I wrap myself in a plush towel, absorbing the warmth it offers. In the kitchen, I pour the steaming hot chocolate into a cup, the rich aroma permeating the air, enticing my senses. The smooth, velvety liquid warms my insides, spreading comfort throughout my body. With my mind clear and rejuvenated, I gather my study materials, the weight of the books in my hands a familiar comfort.

The idea of living alone used to intimidate me, but now, in the solitude of my home, I find solace. The absence of noise and chaos brings a sense of peace that I cherish. My cozy two-bedroom house, though modest, exudes a sense of pride, its simplicity and understated elegance reflecting my values.

Living with my parents was draining, both mentally and emotionally. So, the first opportunity I got, I moved the fuck out of there. I’ve never been one for grandeur or attention-seeking; I prefer to keep things simple and understated. Growing up, I had my fill of flashy things and showing off, so now I value a more low-key lifestyle.

When it comes to furniture, I tend to lean toward neutral colors like black, gray, and white. Bright or bold colors give me a headache. I find that surrounding myself with dark colors makes me feel more relaxed and comfortable. In general, my home reflects my personality - calm, collected, and unassuming.

When I moved into this apartment for the first time, I immediately noticed that all the walls were plain white. They lacked character and gave off a sterile andunwelcoming vibe. It almost felt like I was in a mental institution with their bland and uniform appearance.

So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and bring some color and personality to the walls. Now, whenever I step into my apartment, I feel a sense of pride and ownership. It’s no longer a generic, cookie-cutter space, but rather a reflection of my taste and style. And most importantly, it’s a place where I feel comfortable and at ease. Among all the items in my house, my favorite ones are the big bookshelves filled with my beloved books and the scented candles that fill the room with a delightful aroma. Coming home to this is a true joy. Every time I walk through the door, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride, knowing that this is all mine. It’s my home. My sanctuary. However, what I adore the most is my room. If I could, I would spend the whole day in there.

Apart from its eerie aesthetic, what captivates me is the immense red LED portrait of a woman’s wide-open mouth, with her tongue playfully sticking out. The LED display is incredibly vibrant and lifelike, almost as if it could jump off the wall at any moment. The words “Bite Me” etched onto the tongue add an ironic twist, given my fear of intimacy.

As I sit cross-legged on my bed, I browse through a collection of chilling horror movies. The horror genre has captivated me since my early years, despite my mother’s belief that there was something abnormal about finding such gruesome films appealing.

After some searching, I finally settled on a movie to play, although my intention wasn’t to watch it attentively. It’s merely meant to provide background noise as I study. Glancing at the clock on my bedside table, I realize it’s nearly midnight.

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, I turn my attention back to the sea of papers and exam notes scattered across my bed.

Why do I torture myself like this?

A startling noise has me jolting up in bed. Rubbing my eyes, I looked around. My exam notes were still on mybed, and the TV was blaring. I must have fallen asleep while studying. I felt something was off as soon as I woke up. It was pitch dark and quiet, with only the TV giving faint light to the eerie darkness of the room, but there was an unsettling feeling in the air. I was sure I had heard something, not just my imagination. Frozen in bed, I tried to make sense of the situation.

Finally, I gathered the courage to investigate. Standing up slowly, I tiptoed towards the door, careful not to make noise. The floorboards creaked under my feet. My heart raced with each step, and wild possibilities filled my mind. In the hallway, an icy shiver ran down my spine. I listened intently for any sounds of an intruder but heard nothing except the air conditioning unit. Taking a deep breath, I fumbled for the light switch in the kitchen, my fingers trembling. The room brightened, casting sharp shadows. I searched for anything out of place, my heart pounding and blood rushing in my ears.

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