Bitten

Although old, dusty and rundown, Mill House was my home. Home to my family, a home passed down through generations. A loving memory carried carefully from father to son, mother to daughter. Keeping it’s secrets hidden, it’s treasures buried.

My mother, father, sister and I, all lived peacefully within Mill houses walls. My father, constantly at work on his business “Wilson’s Paranormal Investigations”. I’m not entirely convinced with my father’s ability to detect paranormal happenings, but his business keeps him working, keeps him happy. My father prides himself in presentation, he always dresses smart, in a suit or atleast a smart shirt and tie. He works downstairs on the floor above the basement unless his work calls him out for an investigation. My mother, a healer, she spends the majority of her time brewing herbs whilst making her potions, carrying the scent of cinnamon and burnt sage wherever she goes. She has beautifully flowing red hair, all the way down to her waist, which she keeps neat in a plat running down her left shoulder. She mostly wears long shapeless dresses tied tightly with an apron. She creates candles and oils to sell online. They claim to help people, to heal. My sister Lily and I, your average enough teenagers 17 and 16, lily only being a year younger than me we’ve always been close. Both live in a organised mess, spending most of our time on the internet, or sleeping. Lily’s curious nature has gotten her in trouble countless times. She has a slight obsession with mystery, constantly reading detective books and re watching her Sherlock box set. She keeps her long brown hair in a tight ponytail wrapped with her favourite scarf, which constantly smells like lavender. She likes to wear her white blouses paired with blue jeans with her crest necklace trailing down her neck. We could almost pass as a normal family. Then myself, Elizabeth Annabella Wilson. Like my sister I have brown hair which runs down my back disobediently. I tend to wear oversized t-shirts with skinny jeans, with a scarlet scarf tied around my neck. It’s a trade mark almost, Mother hates it.

The idea of the supernatural, Vampires, Witches, Werewolves and Ghosts, has always been pressed upon Lily and I. Our family has developed a certain sensitivity to these things. Being able to see things others can’t. Understanding energies, helping the lost, and discovering the unfound. Unfortunately, unlike my sister, I have developed this sensitivity. I don’t fully understand it yet, nor do I know how to use it. All I know, is my mother and grandmother both have it. It’s passed down by blood. And blood alone. There are hundreds like us, all together. Our family crest being the Lotus, symbolising harmony, spiritual illumination and unlimited potential. Our crest, the Lotus is a water lily which rises from the sludge of muddy waters. It reinforces the concept of resurrection. We use as a reminder that "this, too, shall pass." It symbolizes forgiveness, gratitude and compassion and invites a balance between humility and pride. We carry it upon ourselves always, as a reminders of our loyalties and morals, our gift. The gift flows back through my family for generations. Our ancestors crafted our traditions in stone, passing their knowledge on the supernatural down to those who see. Carrying our crest shows others like us who we are, where we belong.

Mill house was located in a secluded area, furthest house away from the town Red Haven, along with its long forgotten abandoned neighbour, Ravnos Hall. Which stood peacefully beside Mill house, overlooking the towns happenings. Stories of Ravnos Hall’s previous owners was arguably the towns favourite ghost story. Scaring children to never venture within it’s walls. Lily and I played no attention to these stories of course, as kids we explored the grounds of Ravnos Hall, every field, every corner. Although we only explored the first room of Ravnos hall before our mother found us and dragged us back home. Still, I felt an unease between it’s cold damp walls. People say the story of Ravnos hall talks about lost love, betrayal, the spilling of blood. As for now Ravnos Hall remains untouched, left suspended in time almost, like a frozen memory dammed to never age. Mirroring the story, of it’s owners described as pale and unforgiving, cold to the touch. Mystery surrounding them and their relentless ways. This idea intrigued Lily and I, it’s inhuman nature drew us closer to it’s legend, it’s history.