Around 5 months ago, I moved into a new house. Well, actually, it was very old. Older than my previous house. The lady who had lived there before me was called Mavis Lashley, and she had died 6 months before I moved in. Nobody in her family had claimed the house. This was confusing. (Might I add that Mavis Lashley's husband had died shortly before she did, and thus she would be feeling very upset and maybe that is what caused her to stick around, or maybe it is an imprint of emotion.)
After a while, I settled into the creaky old house. The place was like a haunted house, with a dark, dusty attic and creepy projectors and jars of mixed goo in the larder. The garden was full of strange but beautiful flowers. But about a month ago, I was laying alone in my bed. It was dark and the only sound at all was the creaking from the attic. Mum and Dad were downstairs watching TV. Then I heard short, quiet snatches of song, high and delicate. They lasted no more than a moment. There came about 15 of them, then the song fell silent.
I went downstairs to see if it was my Mum and Dad, turning up the TV. It wasn't. The TV was muted and my parents were half-asleep. Since then, I hear the song almost every night.