the old lady and the house pt. 2 in We are all ghosts

(this is sort of a work in progress that has been put down and picked back up again many times. Some of the pieces don’t fit perfectly, but I want to get them all typed down before I seam them together)

Nick stood stunned on the porch as she turned and walked towards the light he thought was probably the kitchen.
He hadn’t thought this far, he didn’t think she’d talk to him. In his hands was a list of people that lived in this town 40 years ago that he’d managed to find on the internet, and her’s was the last. Of all the doors he’d knocked on, this one was the last he’d expected a response from. He looked down the driveway towards his car, watching the rivers of water carve small canyons in the gravel.
With hesitant steps like an easily spooked fawn, he followed her into the darkness of the house.

The house looked like it has been uninhabited for years, perfectly arranged furniture and decorations but a thick layer of dust. She was a unsettling presence, slight with hunched shoulders, but her movements were very direct.
“I’m making tea. You want some?” Her voice was slightly gravelly but it also seemed musical.
He wondered if she had once been able sing beautiful but sad songs. “Oh..uh…yeah, sure.”
He stood awkwardly in the corner of the small kitchen while she prepared the teapot. “You can take a seat at the table if you want.” she said without even turning around.
It was a small table with only two chairs, and a very out of date yellow and orange table cloth, like something out of the 70’s. He grabbed a chair and sat down quietly, pulling out his notebook.
The kettle started to scream and he jumped a little. “You’re a jumpy creature.” She said with a half-smile.
He nodded awkwardly, and looked at his watch. It was 2:30 but with the grey clouds and rain outside it could really be an hour of the day.

She put the teapot and matching teacups with intricate dark blue drawings against stark white china on the table.

“Who told you to come here?” she poured the tea, but he noticed her hand shaking slightly.
He hesitated, reached out for the cup of tea and sipped noisily.

“No one.”

“What do you want with me?” Her green were like the first foliage of spring. Once again, he was struck by how bright and young they seemed.

“I want to know your version of events, of what happened that night.”

She sipped her tea slowly.

“What do you know about that night?”

“That the next day 5 teenagers went missing, and no one was ever found, except you. 10 years later you came back, and no one knows why.” Nick could feel his voice trembling, it was taboo to say any of those things aloud here. He could feel her start to realize what he was here for.

She stared down at her cup like it was full of life’s answers.

Nick reached slowly into his bag and pulled out a tape recorder.
He clicked it on.

“Do you mind if I record?”

She took a deep breath as if this moment was meant to be inhaled.

“No.”

“This is September 2nd, 2015, and my name is Nicholas Harris. Can you give your name please?”

“Rachael Henry”

“What happened to you on Oct. 31, 1975?”

“I died.”