She hears the gate scrape open every night.
Problem is, this house doesn’t have a gate.
Even so, it scrapes across the sidewalk every night.
She can see the white scratches it leaves on the sidewalk every morning.
There are also footsteps in the attic.
Heavy footsteps that slowly walk back and forth every night.
This house also does not have an attic.
She’s not scared.
She moved in last year, but she doesn’t feel afraid.
Once she tried to turn off a light that seemed to have been left on, but then couldn’t find that particular light the next morning.
Sometimes she hears voices.
They’re friendly, chatty, but not directed at her.
They talk amongst themselves in the next room.
Which is strange.
She lives in a studio apartment on the top floor of this building.
There is no next room.
Her landlord warned her.
It wasn’t really a warning, though.
More of an education.
The house is haunted. It’s haunted by another house.
The ground still holds memories from the buildings before.
A house haunting a house.
Nothing to be afraid of.
Every night, she says goodnight to her dog and to all of the others houses that were there before hers.