The Haunted Home
James sat in the dirty kitchen with his feet propped up on the table and looked around the dilapidated room. He watched a rat climb over and around the counters and sink, looking for scraps of anything. James rolled his eyes knowing anything that even resembled food had long since been carried away by other animals or decayed so much it became dust. Still, it scurried around in a hurried way, as if it had to get one more morsel of food in before it goes back to the office. “Or maybe it has to get back to Mrs. Rat,” James said to no one in particular. “You know they say a sign of going crazy is talking to yourself,” a voice said behind him. James sighed, unaffected by the sudden intrusion of his solitude. “I wasn’t alone, I have Mr. Rat here to keep me company, Sheila.” “And why are you sitting down?” “I gotta be here all night and I don’t want to get my fee