A Decayed Rose

"Are you sure about this, Alina?" Glancing over at the man who spoke, Alina simply nodded her head. Without another word, Alina's petite hands coiled around the strap of her luggage, hoisting it over a broad shoulder while her chocolate gaze traveled over to her destination. The house was a manifestation of her worst nightmares. Even though it was a simple, two-story house, with an upstairs deck in the front; the entire property held a sense of foreboding about it, sending goosebumps sprouting across Alina's pallid skin with a brush of invisible fingers. They slid gently down her arm like an invisible, unwelcome caress. Narrowing her gaze, she roamed her eyes over the brick porch to study the cracks among the panel front. One crack stood out in particular, the mark spreading a good three inches across the paneling. It was jagged, and Alina couldn't exactly recall where it had come from—but she knew she was responsible. The past, a chime she can hear as she can imagine the soft giggle

 Alina was one hundred percent certain, so certain in fact that she would bet away her soul, that her house was haunted.Sitting with an expression void of emotion, Alina rested her brown irises on the resin rose settled neatly on her nightstand amongst the dust gathered there from her constant neglect. To any person that wasn't Alina, there would be absolutely nothing amiss about the beautiful ornament staring innocently back at her. But there was something horribly wrong with the picture, something Alina had been noticing a lot with the objects residing within the smothering walls of her home; the rose wasn't where she had last put it.There was no mistaking it this time; Alina knew for a fact that she had put the rose on her bathroom counter last night. She had even gone out of her way to mark the spot she had placed it with a damn dry erase marker, as if to prove to herself she really wasn't losing her mind. And lo and behold, there it sat on her night

 The drizzling sound of rain is what rouses Alina Croix from her light slumber amongst the twisted bed sheets. The tangles of a reaping memory and hollow bridges of lost sleep, tightening the girl's throat when she raises a pale hand to block out the invading light from her wispy curtains. It's hard to tell what time of day it is, but for some unknown reason—perhaps it's the way her senses tingle in slight awareness at the intensity of the sun—but she's certain it's around noon."Damn…" The mutter is displaced and groggy, oak blinking twice to clear the sleep from her heavy eyes. Elbows creak, pushing her into a sluggish upright position. She never was a morning person.A brief glance towards the wet glass and Alina stifles a yawn. It seems the storm from yesterday had yet to break, casting the breezy edges of her home in a lingering haze of rainfall. It brings the events that had transpired last night fresh to mind and she's immediately

It’s unnerving really, what can change in a small amount of time. Days that felt like months, minutes that tick into hours of delirium—it was the type of time that brought with it a steady trickle of change, the type that laid down the foundations to a routine. It seemed like yesterday that Alina had corned Claec in her bathroom and had questioned him on his existence. Her mind spiraling with thoughts and feelings she hadn’t known existed. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, a month had passed. Chris’s visits had become scarce, only having talked to him on the phone once since he helped her remodel her home. And in the days that followed, she had become occupied with her new job and being harassed by Claec. The investigation into her memories and her family’s death churning to a slow stop that had fallen to the back burner. Every day had blossomed into something new.And as Alina stepped into her home afte