?Iridescence?

How long had it been? The house had only occupied an old man for several years that had seemed almost endless. The stubborn man refused to leave the house and he also refused to die. Everything had been done in order to drive the man from the house, but it was as if none of it mattered. It seemed that it hadn't bothered him. How could it not have bothered him? What gave him such a resilient strength? He had lasted so long it seemed that he would be there forever, but of course that couldn't be true. The man was only human and he was very old.

The old house had had many occupants over the years. It housed the wealthy, the poor, the lost, the greedy, but most of all it had been housing a very sad woman for a very long time. The house itself had developed it's own personality with all of the people who had come through it in the years. It was almost as though it had a mind of its own sometimes.

The reason why so many people had been driven out of the house before was because of the lonely ghost that occupied the attic. The ghost was very old even though she had died very young. She had never found peace and could not move on. She had tried to in the beginning of her death, but it was as though her very soul were attached to the house. It was her only home and it seemed the house was not ready to let her go. The ghost had been the one to drive everyone away. She was afraid of what the house mint do to them. She did not want anyone to suffer her fate.

For a long time the ghost had gone into a dreamlike state and the house had grown rather quiet. The old man hadn't left and since he could not see her she felt even more alone and retreated to the attic space where her few wordily belongings had been collecting dust for over a hundred years. She had resigned herself to a long eternity of loneliness years ago, it wasn't until the attic space was disturbed that she was woken up.

At first anger flashed through her nonexistent body. She could hear the steady and youthful pounding of a heart. So the old man had finally died. She was glad, but now another person had been lured to the possessed house. The ghost was mostly mad because there was a person going through the old things in her attic space. The ghost would not stand for that. She knew that it was silly to hang onto such worthless items, but they had kept her company over the years. If this living person was there to take her things away, she would not allow him too.

The ghost emerged from the shadowy depths of the attic and was surprised to see a man among her things. She wouldn't deny that he wasn't attractive, but such trivial things did not matter to the dead. All that mattered was that she had to drive him away. She stood there for a moment contemplating just how she would drive him away when he had moved over to a very old chest. All rational thoughts left her mind as she realized he was approaching her most prized possessions. She had to do something!

The ghost glanced around the room frantically before she focussed on a large stack of old books. Her soft honey colored eyes narrowed before she looked over at the man. The books began to shake and levitate from the old table before they flung across the room and smacked him squarely in the back. The ghost then focussed her attention on the various large items in the attic and caused them akk to shake and shutter. This was her home, and she would not have anyone intrude.

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