Ian
The black fog slowly starts to disperse around me. It’s thick as smoke and I can barely breathe in the middle of it. My body feels like floating and then, a second later I am back into a corporeal state and back at the attic. Kind of.
The place looks the same but also it is not. The walls look cleaner, fresher, and the air smells of wood smoke which only makes me want to vomit.
I am choking and trying to get back to my feet but my head is dizzy. I can barely open my eyes, letting them roam around, and for some reason my brain can’t make the connection to the fact that I am not where I am supposed to be. Everything in me screams I should leave and that it is all wrong. I should not be here. Which is weird because technically this is my house. My grandfather chose to leave it to me
