It's trailing after me. Wherever it's coming from. That stupid eerie whistling noise. It's kind of like an old song...but not? Stupid old miner's house. Stupid ghost stories. Stupid cute boys... I should have known better than to take on the dare just to impress Josh. No matter how handsome the basketball player is, he isn't worth dying in a goddamn haunted shit hole for. I should have shrugged them off at the beach party. Should have watched how much I was drinking. Shouldn't have kissed those stupid soft lips. Sigh. Too late now. "Where is that coming from?!" I can't make out shit beyond shapes in this fucking place, and it's almost like someone is literally right behind me whistling that tune in some bad horror movie trope. Up the creaking steps. Down the worn dusty hallway. Past the numerous open doors into rooms I'm so not checking out. Turning the corner into another long hallway,