I'm Looking Through You -Mclennon

Chapter 6

Paul

The gentle rays of sunlight streaming into the room gave it a warm, comforting feeling, making Paul already feel at home in his large, creaky bedroom. It's rather magical, the boy thought to himself, watching the dust swirl around in the light. It may not seem particularly special, but Paul had a habit of living in his own world, he saw beauty when there was none, and to him, everything about this strange new house was fascinating.

The room had been partly furnished when they moved in, with a faded, rather worn, green sofa, a scratched up wobbly bed and the largest desk the boy had ever seen. He counted eight drawers in total, and a large area of it covered in a soft, dark green writing mat. Atop it, was just one thing, a typewriter, covered in a thick layer of dust and begging to be used.

Paul made his way over to it, grinning with excitement and marvelling at the beauty of the antique. He took a breath and puffed all the dust off, making it go swirling into the air, causing the boy to have a small coughing fit.

As Paul ran his hands over the shiny metal with glimmering eyes, an idea started to brew. I could keep a diary. Not the most masculine daily activity, but he loved writing and who knows, maybe some of the goings on in the house could inspire a story out of him.

The chair let out an excruciating groan as it scraped against the wooden panelling, Paul slid into it and started figuring out how to use the odd machinery. After fiddling around for ten minutes or so, he was ready to go and rested his delicate fingers on the keys. He was just about to begin when a loud slam caused him to jerk away and stare at the door.

"John?" He called, hoping it was the curious ghost he had met the night before. "Who's John?" A voice called back. Oh, just Mike, Paul thought with disappointment. "No one, don't worry." The boy sighed, starting to believe that it might have been a dream after all.