Haunting Exhibition

"Bryan can always tell when I'm worried, and he usually says the right thing. When he called me at work and told me the plan to move in with his crazy ex-girlfriend, I laughed out loud. He made me realize how ridiculous my worries really were. We didn't need a roommate that bad. We finally had a chance to live together, and nothing could spoil it.

"My dad called our living arrangements 'playing house,' but it was so much more than that. We screwed every day and twice on Sundays. We were in heaven. Bryan showed a playful side I'd never seen. One time, he put on a catwalk show modeling and stripping. When he pulled off his shirt and stretched, I nearly swooned. It was so hot! I wanted to jump him right then, but he teased and worked me up to the most explosive orgasm of my life later that night."

Erica glanced at me with new appreciation.

"Bryan has a fetish for watching me masturbate. I was shy when he first asked, but he got so much pleasure from it. I almost couldn't say no. If I got horny and craved attention, all I had to do was slide a hand in my panties to start him up." Anne smiled. "I sometimes did it just to prove I could."

"Go on. So far, you seem to have a healthy relationship."

"I was deliriously happy, or I'd have noted problems sooner."

"What problems?" Erica asked.

"Yeah, what problems?" I wondered silently.

"For example," Anne continued, "the extra bedroom never warmed no matter how high I adjusted the thermostat. I planned to use it as an office, so I could bring work home, but it was just too creepy in there. Not even the bugs could stand it! There was a pile of dead insects and spiders just inside the threshold as if they died entering."

I remembered the time Anne complained about dead bugs in the hallway. I just shrugged and removed them.

"Bryan joked about our 'roommate'. When I showed him the pile of bugs, he said, 'Kristen probably killed them.'

"I laughed at the time. 'Yeah,' I thought, 'that sounds like her.' From the way Bryan described her, she probably tortured insects."

I started to defend Kristen. She wasn't so bad, but I held my tongue when both women scowled.

"There were other problems like drafts. Doors slammed in the breeze. Plumbing rattled and made other odd noises. It was impossible to adjust the water temperature. The refrigerator sometimes stopped working, and food spoiled. The place was basically a dump.

"After a month or so, I finally met one of the upstairs neighbors. She stopped on the porch and asked how I liked the apartment. She seemed surprised when I said it was fine."

I wondered why I never met any neighbors. "How strange," I mused.

"'Doesn't it creep you out what happened in there?' the neighbor asked. When I wondered what she meant, she said, 'Never mind - you're happier not knowing.'"

"What happened there?" the Interventionist and I asked in unison.

"I didn't find out right away," Anne delayed.

"OK, go on," Erica encouraged.

"Sex with Bryan started to get creepy too. He wasn't all there. Lights were on with nobody home. Do you know what I mean?"

"Now wait a minute," I protested.

"You'll have your turn, Bryan. Please let Anne continue."

"Things got worse over the next few weeks. One day, as I was delivering a rent check to our landlady, I happened to ask casually, 'Did you ever discover what happened to the tenant before us?'

"The landlady gave me the strangest evading look saying, 'I have no idea.'

"So, over the next few days, I researched. I went to the library on my way home from work each night and read microfiche archives. Back in 1887, a girl named Jessica hanged herself in the house. The story dripped with innuendo about the girl being jilted and possibly pregnant."

I felt a chill run up my spine.

"When I asked the librarian to help me print the article, I got another surprise. 'I forgot this one,' he said and asked if I was studying the house for a class or something."

"So what's with the house?" I demanded.

"People call it 'Love Lost' house because there's been so much tragedy," Anne explained. "There's a story about a pair of lovers who strangled each other. When the sherif broke into the house, he found remains frozen in the act of love."

"That's horrible!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"After that, I didn't want to spend another night in the house, but I went back for Bryan." Anne looked to me pleading with her eyes.

I forced a smile.

"Bryan acted stranger and stranger. I overheard him talking to himself. He hardly paid attention when I was there and talked about 'Kristen this' and 'Kristen that.'" Anne made quote gestures in the air to emphasize her sarcasm.

"I don't want Kristen," I whined in frustration.

"I should hope not!" Anne scolded, but her face softened to concern, "Why are you so fascinated with Kristen? You haven't seen her in years. Is it because she used to live in our apartment?"

My mouth hung open without words.

Anne turned back to Erica and continued, "The last article I found was the last straw."

"What did it say?"

"Kristen killed herself in the apartment three years ago."