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Current mood: fritty kid
Category: fritty kid Dreams and the Supernatural
Its morning, I woke up. I am alone. Just messing. This morning Illinois is being swept by the wind direct fom Baskerville Hall. Beth's mum and dad live on a golf course, so the banshee has free reign to swoop, gathering the fear of Irish catholics like myself, so riddled with superstition, that I keep my eyes closed outside in case I see herself and the rest of the house drops dead.
Its my grandad's fault. The greatest ghost storyteller ever. He started every tale by telling us, "I don't believe any of this, but this is what I was told..." His tale of the gray lady when he was a sergeant in the Irish army, kept me scared and awake, well, until now actually....
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