Haunted Life
Prologue and Part 1
by: Tigress Pern
Archive: GW Addiction (thanks Tyr!)
Warnings: Alternate Universe
Disclaimer: I don't own GW.
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Prologue

The rain had started falling again. It ran down the
window, creating tiny rivers on the glass. With all
the strength he could muster, he set one foot on the
step and began to ascend. The staircase seemed long
and foreboding as the shadows played across the steps.
A flash of lightning illuminated the room and for a
moment he faltered. No, I can't, he told himself and
gripped the banister. Placing one foot in front of
the other, he moved forward. An infinite number of
hard wooden stairs spread out before him in his mind.
Each one taking him one step closer to his goal, yet
it was so far away that he wondered if he would ever
make it. The grand father clock at the base of the
staircase chimed the first bell of midnight. I have
to hurry.

Part one

"You're living in that house?" Trowa nodded. Quatre
raised a blond eyebrow at him.
"With the money our parents left us, Catherine and I
decided to buy it."
"You're crazy." Wufei growled as they walked along
the sidewalk. "You know what they say about that
place." Trowa glanced at his two friends and sighed.
It had been nearly a year since his parent's death and
Trowa was still feeling the effects. It had been
sudden. Loosing their mother to cancer and then two
months later their father to a hit and run driver, had
sent both children into a tailspin. They were
surviving, but sometimes just barely. Catherine tried
to keep up her positive outlook, but Trowa had caught
her more than once crying her eyes out in their tiny
apartment. Now that Catherine was eighteen, she had
access to the money their parents had left them.
Their mother had always wanted to fix up the house on
Willow Drive, so Catherine had decided to make her
mother's wish come true.
"Yes, but it doesn't matter. Mother always wanted to
fix it up and start a Bed and Breakfast." Trowa said
softly.
"I think it's a wonderful tribute to your parents."
Quatre replied giving Wufei a dirty look as the
Chinese boy rolled his eyes. "The place would make a
wonderful Bed and Breakfast."
"I just hope you and Catherine know what you're
doing." Wufei said. "No one has been in that house in
ages. The last people who lived there went screaming
out of town."
"Don't worry Trowa, I'm sure it's all a bunch of
rumors. My father said the people ran out of money
and that's why they sold the place." Quatre reassured.
"And he's the bank president, he should know." They
paused before Trowa turned on to Willow Drive.
"Would you like to come over to the house? Catherine
and I haven't set up much, but we have the kitchen
unpacked." Trowa offered hoping his friends would
come. He really didn't want to go into that huge
empty house alone. It wasn't that he was afraid, it
was the fact that he' be by himself and he really
didn't want that. They hesitated.
"I have to get home. I have a date with Meiran
tonight." Wufei said. "If I'm late again, she'll have
my head." He half-smiled. Quatre chuckled knowing
full well what the captain of the fencing team would
do to her co-captain if he were late again. They may
scream and rant at each other during practice, but
they did get along well off the fencing pist.
"I'll have to decline too Trowa, sorry." Quatre
apologized. "Iria is coming home from the university
tonight and my father wants me to go pick her up from
the bus station. We're going out to dinner after
that. Did I tell you that her residency will be at
the hospital here?" Trowa shook his head. "She
starts in January. Imagine, my sister is going to be
a doctor."
"Remind me to stay away from the emergency room."
Wufei said. Quatre glared at him. "I'll see you
around Trowa. I hope you survive."
"Don't pay any attention to him." Quatre said patting
his friend on the shoulder as Wufei headed off. "Ja
ne." Trowa stood on the street corner watching the
retreating backs of his two friends. Sighing
heavily, he turned and started up Willow Drive towards
his new home.

* * *

The door opened with a groan as Trowa pushed it in.
Needs some oil; he thought and hurried to where the
toolbox was. There had been so many little things
that needed repairing about the place, that he and
Catherine had simply kept the toolbox out in the front
hall. Scrounging in it, he found the oil and dripped
it into the door hinges. Moving it back and forth,
Trowa checked to make sure it didn't stick before
closing the front door. He dropped the oil back into
the toolbox, then maneuvered his way through the hall
to the kitchen, trying to avoid the stacks of boxes.
They really needed to unpack, but they hand only just
brought the last load from the apartment over.
Setting his backpack down on the table, he opened the
refrigerator. There wasn't much in it except for a
carton of milk, four muffins, yogurt, and what was
left of their peach supply. Sighing to himself he
snared a carton of yogurt and closed the door. He
added shopping to the growing list of things they
needed to do. Fishing in a draw for a spoon, Trowa
hoped that he could come up with something more
creative for dinner than rice and yogurt, which was
what they would have again unless he did something.
Peeling off the foil, he took a bite and suddenly
froze. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood up
and he felt a bit chilled. Swallowing slowly, he
turned to look behind him. Nothing was there. Must
be my imagination, I shouldn't let all those stories
get to me, he told himself. It's all in my mind.
Walking over to the table he sat down and continued
eating. Again he felt the air temperature drop.
Shivering he looked up. Once again there was nothing.
Fearing rose within him as Trowa slipped out of the
kitchen and headed down the hallway.
"The door." He stated, not sure why he'd said the
word out loud. The front door stood wide open and a
cool September breeze was blowing in through it. "I
could have sworn I shut it all the way." He muttered
as he closed it. He leaned hard against it and
listened for the click that said it was shut.
"Strange."
"I wouldn't call it strange." Catherine told him
later that evening. She thankfully had stopped by the
grocery store on her way home that evening and picked
up something to eat. "I bet you didn't give it a hard
enough shove when you closed it the first time. The
wind could have easily pushed it open. I should know,
it's happened to me several times. I push on it until
I hear the click, then I know it's shut." Trowa
nodded. "You shouldn't listen to what people say
about this house. There isn't anything spooky about
it. It just has a bad reputation because the first
owner's son died in it. They sold it because they
couldn't handle living in the same place where their
son had taken his last breath. Since then people say
that strange things happen, but most of it is
carelessness on the part of the owners."
"We are the thirteenth owners." Trowa muttered.
"Thirteen will be our lucky number." Catherine stated
confidentially. "I won't let Mother's dream of a Bed
and Breakfast die. She wanted to make something of
this house. She would have done it too if the cancer
hadn't…" Catherine fell silent. Her bottom lip
quivered.
"Don't cry, we'll make Mother's dream come true."
Trowa assured her. Catherine smiled; her eyes
glistening with unshed tears.
"That we will. No one and nothing is going to stop
us. Mother and Father would have wanted it that way."

* * *

Birds woke Trowa. The crazy things were singing
outside his window. It was September nearly October
and they were still celebrating like it was summer.
Rolling over he tried to go back to sleep, but
couldn't. He didn't know why, but he had the oddest
feeling like he was being watched. It was probably
left over from the dream he'd had last night. In the
dream he'd been walking the halls of the house with a
shadow dogging his every step. Shaking his head, he
gave up and threw off the covers. He really had to
stop reading suspense novels before going to sleep.
Glancing at his nightstand, Trowa noticed that the
book was gone. Cursing silently, he looked about on
the floor. He'd probably knocked it off while he was
tossing and turning. It wasn't an uncommon
occurrence. He'd become a restless sleeper after his
parents' death and moving into the house didn't seem
to help it.
Reaching under his bed, Trowa couldn't find the book.
Puzzled, he got up and began searching the floor
around the stand. Where could it have gone? He
wondered silently as he wiggled his way under the bed.
It was no where in sight. Crawling out the other
side, he scanned the room. A familiar silver cover
with black writing caught his eye. Rising to his
feet, Trowa plucked the book off his bed. How had it
gotten there, he didn't know. Dismissing it as simply
odd, he got dressed for school.
Catherine was on her way out the door when Trowa
entered the kitchen. She turned back when she heard
him and gave him some money and a grocery list.
"Make sure you go to the store on your way home.
Here's some cash. Just pick up the bear essentials.
We'll make a major shopping trip this weekend, I
promise. Oh, and I told Noin I'd cover for her at the
store. Her fiancé, Zechs, is coming home early from
overseas and she wants to meet him at the airport.
I'll be home about nine." With that Catherine hurried
out of the house. "See if you can clean the place up
a bit while you're at it." She called just before she
shut the door. Trowa shrugged and opened the
refrigerator.
School was as it always was. He handed in
assignments, copied down math problems and wished the
teacher were a bit more interesting. After the final
bell he walked to the corner market, picked up the
items on the list, plus something for dinner. Wufei
had fencing practice that afternoon and Quatre had
violin lessons, so Trowa was alone on his walk home.
The house loomed before him like a castle of old.
The three-story mansion was built in a Victorian
style, which made people believe it older than it was.
Its grounds were unkept. Trees had grown up to block
most of the view of the front and side yard, which
were choked with weeds. Unlatching the gate, Trowa
wondered what it had looked like when it was first
built. He bet the original owners, before their son
died, had kept it pristine. Maybe he could get it
that way again.
Putting the groceries away, Trowa changed into some
grungy clothes, searched through boxes until he found
his father's gardening tools and headed outside. His
father had loved to garden. Their old house had
flowers of all sorts, but he'd been most proud of his
rose garden. Trowa could still picture the carved
birdbath that used to be at the center of it. All the
little sparrows and finches would splash about on warm
summer afternoons and Trowa would sit on the ground
watching. Birds were such fragile creatures, a bit
like him. Realizing that he was making himself
miserable, Trowa headed outside with pruners in hand.
He worked diligently removing any dead brambles from
the yard. After two hours of working, he was growing
tired and was bleeding from numerous scratches. Yet,
he had managed to clear the old flowerbeds and most of
the front yard. Deciding that was enough for today,
he shoved all the debris into large black garbage
bags. They would be taken to the yard waste facility
that weekend. Knotting up the last bag, Trowa
happened to glance up at the house. Something moved
in a third story window. Trowa's heart leapt into his
throat. It flickered again and was gone.
"What the hell?" He shook his head telling himself
that it was just his imagination. Once back inside
the house, he undressed and took a shower. As the
dirt and blood swirled down the drain, Trowa thought
about his life. It was a subject he often thought
about when he was alone. There wasn't much of it
since his parents' death. Not that he'd been that
outspoken to begin with, but he'd grown even more
withdrawn in the past year. A lot of things had
happened in the past year. Starting with his parents,
Trowa's life had grown lonelier. Wufei had started
spending more time with Meiran and less with him and
Quatre. Quatre had dated first Dorothy, then Hilde,
and had just broken up with Relena. Trowa had found
no suitable female to date at his high school. Relena
was the only one he'd even consider because of her
personality. The only problem was that Quatre had
been dating her up until a few weeks ago and he didn't
feel right asking someone out on the rebound.
Especially if that someone had been dating his best
friend. With a heavy sigh he turned off the water.
It was time to go work on his room.
Both he and Catherine had decided to have their rooms
on the first floor. It would be easier when they
finally opened the Bed and Breakfast if all the guests
had their rooms upstairs. He opened the door and
threw his dirty clothes in a plastic milk crate that
served as his laundry basket. Dressing quickly, Trowa
turned his attention to cleaning his room. It was
mostly clean, but there were still boxes that needed
to be unpacked. As he began to put more of his books
away on an empty bookshelf he noticed something. His
suspense novel was sitting on his computer desk.
Hadn't he put it back on the nightstand that morning?
He couldn't remember. Scooping it up, he flipped
through it to make sure his bookmark was still in the
proper place. It was, but a corner of one page was
folded over, like someone else had been reading it.
Very perplexed at this point, Trowa looked about his
room to check and see if anything else was out of
place.
"I'm beginning to wonder if those stories are true."
He whispered.

On to Part 2

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