Here be dragons

take a seat people, this one is a long one.

I boards a train on a contry station. The day is hazy and hot, the tall grass dried out and whispering in the hot wind. The train I'm in go off the rails, but I find myself tranding up in the ruins of the accident, seemingly inscathed, chairs and pieces of glimmering machinery all around me in a clearing. I still need to go, and I find mylsef in another train, this one going over a brige high on a montain side. This one go off the rails too, and I'm falling down, all the way to the ground. I hear the thump of my body, and something snaps.
I scramble back on my ass, then I stand up. Somehow I know that i'm not living anymore, that I'm a ghost, haunting my own body. It doesn't seem broken or even hurt. Two other girls are picking themselves from the ground. I know they are like me, dead but walking. We meet up on the side of the wreackage and decide that we have nothing better to do but walk.
We walk for a long time, following the train tracks, until we reach the outskirts of a city. One of my companion seem to know her way around, and she brings us to a big villa with a party going on. We walk in from the garden to a back door. A Yound, blond haired girl opens the door, beckoning us in. There's a lot of people, kids barely in their teens huddled together, sixteen years old longing around, and twenty something drinking and laughing. THe blonde girl introduces us to her older borther, one of a twenty-something; he's a fiery red-head, with a handsome, somehow cat-like face. He seems very interested in me, but he gives off such a creeper vibe that I decide to purposely fuck with him by flirting with girls. I whisper to one of the girls from the train:
"I bet I can kiss three girls before the end of the day."
"But how about the guy?" she askes.
"Exactly."
We giggle after that.
The day after, the party is fnished and the house weirdly empty. It's a beautiful place, with white walls and tilted floors, the furniture mostly made of light wood, with dark blue and white fabric. I slowy understand that the party was an haunting, and the previous owners of the place are dead, and I'm squatting. There's a lot of food in the kitchen, breads and cheeses and all sort of vegetables in the frige. There's also a cot in here, with a cream wool blanket on the thin mattress.
I spend some days here, and one day I overslept and wake up in the darkness. I flip the switch to open the electrical blinds and look the time on my phone; it's almost 3 p.m. but I need to plung it to see clearly the screen, the battery was almost flat.
I wander in the garden in my pajama, a fade pink shirt going down to my thighs, feeling feverish. On a cornor of the garden, overlooking the street below is a giant tree, gnarled and old. It looks like a japanese pin tree, with big aerial roots. It's covered in dark green moss, with lighter sprouts on the side touched by the sun, doted with small flowers in orange, pink and light yellow.
As I'm walking toward it, two girls I recognize from the school I'm attending see me from the street and ask me where I am been. I make up a lie that I was sick with the flu, my dew soaked pajama clinging to me like I'm sweatslick. They sympathize, and ask to use my bathroom. I pretend that it's dirty to make them leave, bu the older one insist and I guide them inside. I pretend to clean up the bathroom before letting the younger one in, going in the kitchen with the other. I start to nervously tidy up the food, putting most of it in the frige and throwing moldy things away. The girl looks at me intendingly and asks me : "Do you sit on the bed, or through the bed?" I look quickly to the still locked bathroom door, and nervously tell her that we should speak about it later. She agrees and the younger girl get out, and they leave. The older girl tells me her friend needs help, and she will come back later.
I start to bolt all the doors but another school college walks to it with a friend of her and tries to force her way in; I lock the door on her and talk to her through a window cut in the wood of the door. She aggressifly asks me about a Sarcomis thyphus and I rattle off the definition of it; it's a bacteria that induce sarcoma. He friend snorts and starts to say that it's actually a part of the immun system. I scream at her that it's in the fucking name that it induces sarcoma and it's a bacteria and slam the window covering in their faces, bolting it. I back up a little corridor and lock another door, this one painted light blue.