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[ONGOING/PG13] The House On the Hill ft. B2ST

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[ONGOING/PG13] The House On the Hill ft. B2ST

Post by trayceepanduh on 12/29/2009, 5:48 pm

The House On the Hill
Written by trayceepanduh

Author's Note
I've been on hiatus from writing fanfics for about half a year now >.< So it's been a looong time since I've written so please bare with me! I'm trying my best to get back in the groove (; All suggestions, criticisms, etc. are most certainly welcome but bashing is not. It makes me cry, honestly ;___; Lately, I've been writing by request, so if you like my writing, you request a fic! ^___^ I don't write yaoi unless I'm really comfortable with the group, so you best not ask for that, hahaha. Oh, and the poster says apinchofhappiness because I had originally posted this story at a B2ST forum where I am known as... apinchofhappiness. XD Anyways, enjoy ~

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Chapter List
00 | 01


Who is she?

Whispers fill the corridor as the students peek out from the door way as a lone person walked along the empty hall. The fluorescent light gleamed down on her, but not a face could be seen. Only a long mane of tangled, dark hair, and a crinkled uniform was available to the eyes - nothing more.

She's new,
a student would whisper to a friend, she lives in the house on top of the hill.

In a town where everybody knows everybody, a newcomer was bound to stand apart from the crowd. The old crickety house on top of the hill vacated by what some call a witch that sucks the souls out of children, had a new resident living inside of it. A teenage girl, the rumors spread like wildfire, no older than eighteen but no younger than fifteen. Her name? Unknown. Her background? Unknown. Her identity?


For the first time in months that the girl had supposedly moved into the old abandoned house, the people finally got to see what she looked like. But even knowing that she wasn't like anyone of them, couldn't hold back their surprise.

A ghost, some say. A spirit that lived inside of a teenage girl's body. A criminal on the run from the law - even a murderer, she was called. But despite everything that was said about her, she never looked up. She never spoke a word, until now.

"Hello," a voice as melodious as an orchestral symphony in the midst of a field of daisies spoke quietly, "my name is Park Su-Min."

And so her story begins.

Last edited by trayceepanduh on 12/30/2009, 4:07 am; edited 2 times in total


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Re: [ONGOING/PG13] The House On the Hill ft. B2ST

Post by trayceepanduh on 12/30/2009, 3:57 am


It was snowing that day. I remembered clearly because my mother had bundled me up in layers and layers of jackets and undershirts, not wanting her little "Seobie" to be cold. I sat in the back of the classroom, right next to the window that showed a field of completely white snow. I smiled to myself as my pencil began to spin itself around and around my long fingers, never finding a stopping point. Snowflakes hit the transparent window as I watched each one of them collide, not one a replica of the other. Turning back to the classroom, I sighed at the conformity of the world I lived in. Why can't the world be like snowflakes, I thought to myself as the pencil continued to spin, where everyone is different and nobody is the same? Identical uniforms lined along the desks, equipped with identical people - never changing, always stable. Letting out another negligible sigh, I opened up my textbook along with the rest of my classmates and continued to read the comic I had hidden in there. Sherlock Holmes, another adventure in a series of numerous adventures. I grinned to himself as my fictional idol slid his way through problems, dilemmas, and discovered the truth underneath the facades of people. I wanted to be just like that; just like Sherlock Holmes. Unforunately, I gloomed to himself, being Sherlock Holmes was definitely not plausible in a small town like this, where everybody already knew everybody's business. Secrets weren't kept in a community like this, much less mysteries that needed solving. That is, until I met her, of course.

"So," my brother, the shy, the quiet, the sweet Hyunseung dropped his books down on the desk beside me said, "did you hear?"

"Hear what?" I asked, stuffing my already chubby cheeks with food, enjoying the taste of my mother's love-filled, homemade lunch.

"About the new girl," my brother replied, opening his lunch box, "she's going to be in our class."

"So?" I rolled my dark brown eyes, not giving a care in the gossip that my neighbors seemed to be obsessed with. "Why don't people just leave her alone? She's just a girl." Hyunseung snorted at me, seeming to be amused at how dense I could be.

"You haven't heard, have you?" he chuckled, picking up his chopsticks and scooping some rice into his mouth thoughtfully. "She's... different, I hear. She's not like the rest of us." Different. My ears immediately perked up at the word as I rearranged my face to show that hey, I don't really care.

"Different how?" I asked nonchalantly, slurping down my cold waterbottle, "what, she's not black haired, brown eyed like everybody else here?"

"Well..." Hyunseung looked around, ensuring that nobody was listening in, "somebody told me that she's a criminal on the run... that she committed a murder and needed to lay low for a while." I snorted, nearly causing me to choke on my own water.

"Murder?" I rolled my eyes at my brother's ability to believe such ridiculous stories, "please. We live in the 21st century. Nobody murders and quote, unquote, lays low anymore. The minute you murder someone, the cops are on your tail. Everybody knows that."

"Whatever," he shrugged, "but it's a fact that she's living in the house on the hill." I looked at him, blinking. The house on the hill - the one place where nobody in town ever, ever wanted to go near. It was located on the outskirts of the community, the very, very end of the main street. The hill was about ye high, but the sun never seemed to shine over it. A house sat at the very top, but even though the hill wasn't even that large, it seems to far away. Windows were boarded up, lights were never turned on. The door was bolted shut and cobwebs hung from every nook and cranny. Dust collected where dust shouldn't be, and the bricks started to deteriorate into a murky gray, a sure sign that the house hasn't been rennovated in a while. The roof had holes and boards to cover up those holes, but buckets could be seen with water whenever there was a terrible storm. Curtains that could be seen had holes in them and the grass around the house wiltered away, as if neither rain nor shine flew across this supposed deserted house. For years and years, people believed it was abandoned, and it was haunted. Screams could often be heard coming from the inside - but nobody dared to question. It was just one of those things that you don't ask - you don't even think about it. Every now and then, a shadow would appear at a window, and the rumors would start up all over again. But for most of the time, it was simply ignored. It was as if that old house didn't exist... until now.

"Is that place even live-able?" I asked, my mouth gaping now. The prospect of anybody living in that run down place was completely beyond me as I habitually thought up of schemes to get that poor girl out of there quickly before she hurt herself stepping inside.

"Who knows?" Hyunseung shrugged, "she's coming after lunch, I heard. We'll find out for ourselves very soon, won't we?" I nodded as I stared out the window again, the lunch now forgotten. A new girl, huh, I thought to myself as I watched those changing snowflakes fall.

"I wonder what she's like," I murmured to myself, images of girls flooding my mind. Is she pretty? Is she tall? Is she smart? Like every other person in the school, I began to wonder about this girl who dared to live in the house everyone was afraid to even go near. She's probably brave, I nodded to myself, now remembering my lunch, and she probably doesn't take anybody's bullshit. Immediately, an image of a short, tough girl popped into my mind, complete with biceps, triceps, and whatever other -ceps she could have on her body. Would she have a tattoo? A sprawling dragon suddenly popped on my tough girl's arm. How about two tattoos? Another dragon popped up on the free arm. Would she spit tobacco at my feet, like those big gang leaders? Will she be part of a gang? My imagination ran wild thinking about this person - or perhaps I have been reading way too many Sherlock Holmes comics.

"She's coming!" a classmate yelled out, running in from the hallway and breaking my train of thought, erasing the tough girl from my mind. Thinking that it was our teacher, I quickly stuffed my lunch in my mouth, trying to swallow the bulges in my two cheeks before my teacher could come in and scold me... not that it'd be a surprise. But instead of hearing my teacher's scoldings, I heard nothing but quiet footsteps belonging to a girl my age.

Suddenly, all the food was gone from my cheeks as the entire classroom grew so silent, it was loud enough to wake the dead.

"Class," the teacher had walked in behind her, "this is your new classmate." Silence. I can see it in my classmates' eyes without even looking at them; immediately in that judgmental, territorial teenage way we all have, each person began to look her up and down, sizing her up, deciding which clique she should go with. I turned to her myself, wondering who was this person that made every person in my class so speechless.

And then I knew.

Slouching with her head down, stood the girl that lived in the house on top of the hill. Her jet black hair hung around her face, making it hard to see exactly what she was hiding underneath that hair. Her uniform was wrinkled, dirty, worn. She wore sleeves underneath her uniform, a strange action since a long sleeved shirt has never been a part of the school's uniform. Her knee length socks reached above her knee, all the way up to her mid thigh. Her hands were shaking, her arms were trembling, and as every pair of eyes in the room continued to stare her down... her whole body began to move.

"Hello," she finally said in a surprisingly calm voice despite her appearance, "my name is Park Su-Min." That voice... that one voice, took everyone's breath away. It was like listening to a violin during a walk in the park on a warm spring day; it was like holding your lover's hand and kissing over a warm fire; it was like smelling the rain and watching the rainbow appear on your glass. But the effect of her voice quickly wore off as the shallowness of today's generation kicked in, taking in every aspect of her disheveled appearance.

"What on Earth did the cat drag in?" a snooty voice from the back called out, breaking the longest silence in the history of silence. Ripples of giggles flew through the room as I continued to examine her. She gave off an aura of... different. Hyunseung was right - she was no ordinary girl.

"Thank you for welcoming me into your classroom," she bowed deeply at us, unnerved by the whispers of insults now invading the classroom air.

"Miss Park, you may take the vacant seat beside Mr. Yang," the teacher pointed directly at me, causing me to point at myself. "Yes, you, Mr. Yang, don't play stupid." She rolled her eyes at me as this strange girl made her way slowly down the aisle, right foot in front of left.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" she asked quietly, looking at my stuff that preoccupied the seat. I slowly shook my head no, never taking my eyes off of her as I pushed my things onto the ground. "Thank you."

"I'm Yoseob," I whispered to her as she sat down, sitting up straight and staring directly at the teacher, "are you new in town?" No response. "Do you really live in that abandoned house on that hill?" Still, no response. "Why are you wearing long sleeves? The heat's on full blast here, aren't you hot?" She didn't even blink.

"Yoseob," the teacher sighed irritably, "I haven't managed to yell at you today so far, but why must you irritate me now?"

"I'm not irritating you, Miss!" I replied, smiling brightly, "I'm only asking my classmate here about her life."

"Do that after class! Pay attention or your grades will suffer!" she threatened, not that I cared because my grades couldn't get any lower anyways.

"Hey," I poked her arm, "hey!" She flinched and turned, sending me a glare that still makes my spine tingle today.

"Don't touch me," she spoke in a dangerously low voice, "ever." Flames literally sprouted from her eyes as I scooted my chair back, my eyes growing wide with fear. Who was this girl?


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