Chapter 7 - June

June has lived in exactly 8 homes.

6 of those were after her mother’s death, the ones her father renovated and flipped, crumbling at the seams.

Most of the houses had been relatively isolated, but never so far into the country as this one. When she spent her first night in the new house, it felt like she was being suffocated with the silence.

It was, however, pleasantly cool.

Still, June finds herself unable to sleep, and decides to sit in the bay window (definitely her favorite part of her bedroom) and look at the stars. Instead, she hears someone singing.

Confused, she opens the bedroom window, chipping some of the white paint on the windowsill.

She can hear it clearly now, someone singing in a high voice. They’re singing a lullaby.

June shuts her window, slipping her shoes on and tiptoeing down the creaky stairs.

Suddenly, she is outside, her hair blowing in the breeze, and she can still hear the song. The same one June’s mother used to sing.

She follows the voice, all the way to the well, the boards sharp and jagged like broken teeth, revealing the gaping black hole beneath.

The lullaby is loud, now. The voice is young, soft, lined with tears. Like the singer is about to cry.

June peers into the hole, and there’s nothing there.

Suddenly, a scream erupts from beneath, and June stumbles back, landing in the dewey grass. The well falls silent. Upon a second look, the well is still empty.

June walks back to bed, and changes into a different set of pajamas, hiding the grass-stained ones under her bed.