Six years ago my family and I moved into a brand new house. As the rest of my family scattered outside to view the back yard, I stayed behind to seek a room. After some consideration (and pleading) I convinced my mother to give me the master bedroom framed with stunning windows that opened out to a breathtaking view.

That summer, after we finished packing we began establishing our new life in our novel home. We imprinted our persona's into the house and were content with our cozy home.

One morning, I awoke to a buzzing sound and was mortified at the sight of dozens of flies gathered around my window. I leaped from my bed and bolted down the stairs to notify my mother. Finally, after days of spraying pesticides, and shivering in the basement (my new room), the insect dillema was resolved and I moved back in.

Every summer after that, the flies returned, despite the fact that I switched rooms with my brother.

This summer, not too long ago the flies returned, and this time they infested my dreams.

I vividly remember dreaming of a park. As I grazed along a pond, I took nature pictures and happily ate an ice cream. Suddenly, while sitting on a bench I was engulfed by a swarm of flies. I woke up, breathing heavliy and something caught the corner of my eye. Quickly I snapped my head around and found a small boy, about four five, sitting on the corner of my bed as he glared at me with dark eyes. I was not terrified, but I was shocked, then with a blink, I re-opened my eyes and the boy had vanished.

Often, I find my belongings moved and my corners dark, and now I begin to wonder whether it is the house that draws peculiar occurances, or me.