The Spirit Is Willing

This story is going to be for IceCreamAndSprinkles's story contest. I hope you guys like it!!!!!! PLEASE COMMENT, ITS ANNOYING TO ME THAT I HAVE ALMOST 100 FRIENDS AND BARELY ANY COMMENTS!!!

Chapter 1


"Mom, I dont wanna be here!" my little sister Allison whined and climbed out of out of the back seat of the car. Allison is only seven. She still hasn't outgrown her whiny baby voice so every sentence she speaks sounds like shes complaining.
"Mooommmmmmm!" She shouted and stamped her foot on the dead grass to get attention from our mother, who was busy getting our bags out of the trunk. "I DONT WANNA BE HERE!!"

I rolled my eyes and groaned. "Will you shut up Allison?" I said to her quietly, so my mom wouldn't hear. She's not a fan of words like "shut up" or "jerk". She thinks it'll put a bad influence on Allison.

She heard anyway.

Mom glared at me. "Jasmine, that's not a nice thing to say. Now get your bags and bring them to the house."

Allison smirked and gave me an "you got yelled at and i didn't" look as I stormed over to the house.

"What a creepy old house," I said, scanning it from the porch up. It lookes like a house from a horror movie, with ghosts in the attic and everything (keep this in mind)It's white paint was chipping off and the roof looked like it was missing shingles.
I walked in the door, and into a spider web. "Oh yes, I love this place already," I said sarcastically, spitting out spider webs.

Nobody answered of course. I'm like the the horse in the family. You pay huge attention to it for a while then you get bored with it and send it off to make glue.

I sighed and trudged up the stairs, picked the first door to the left, and surveyed my room.

Not so bad for a random choice. It was a round room, with white walls, a white ceiling, and a light blue carpet. Plain, reminds me of a docters office or a psycho ward, but clean.

"Mom, can I decorate my room?" I yelled down the stairs.

"Sure," she replied lazily. I was guessing she was sleeping on the couch or something. She didn't know what she was saying. If she did, she would not let me decorate my room without supervision. To me, "decorating" is an understatement. I go all out with colors and decorations. When "decorating" our living room for my mom, I splattered yellow and pink paint all over the walls.

As a matter of fact, that's not a bad idea.

I ran outside and grabbed cans of pink, yellow, powder blue, and purple paint and carried them up to my room, careful not to spill paint on the floor, dead grass, or stairs. My mom was going to freak out when she sees my room anyway. I'd rather have a five minute lecture instead of ten, plus a punishment of cleaning up the paint. Ever try to clean paint off grass? Don't do it.

I'd just dipped each hand in purple and powder blue paint and was about to fling paint all over the walls when Allison walked in. "Jasmine, what are you--" She stopped midsentence when she saw what I was doing. "JASMINE!" She shrieked and covered her mouth with her hand. "I-I'm gonna tell mom," she stuttered and hid behind the door, like she was scared I was going to fling paint on her dainty little white dress.

"Go ahead and tell her, Allison," I said slyly. "Then you won't get to help me."

I watched Allison stare longingly at my paint-covered hands, which were dripping shiny dots of blue and purple on the plastic I'd laid out on the floor. I knew she loved to paint. Poor mom, stuck with two artistic children. Allison once got ahold of house paint and she painted a murel of a pony with a huge smiley face and heart on the kitchen wall. We had to paint over it.

"I can help?" She asked, shyly stepping into my room.

"Only if you don't tell mom," I raised my eyebrows, "like you always do."

"I do not always tell mom on you!" she said stubbornly, crossing her arms and glaring at me. She acted like she did when I ate the last brownie when I knew she wanted it. That little "you're a terrible sister" look.

"Yes you do, now are you going to help me or not?" Her eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly.

"Good, now go change, no way can you paint in that," I said, gesturing to her dress. She hurried off and came back in 2.5 minutes later in a pink t-shirt and ripped jeans.

"Better," I commented and she dipped her hands in the pink and yellow paint.

"Okay," I said, turning to my sister, "We start on three. One...two..."

"SPLATTER!" She shouted. Paint flew everywhere. Everything got covered with paint, except for my bed, ceiling, and carpet, which I'd covered with plastic.

Later on, maybe twenty minutes later, wherever you looked there were splatters of yellow, pink, purple, and powder blue.

"Beautiful!" I said and wiped the paint on my shirt. Allison laughed out loud and did the same. I gave her a "Such a copycat" look and went to take a shower.

After my shower, I changed into a pink tank top and black lounge pants.I yawned and climbed the stairs to my room.

First I noticed that Allison had cleaned up the plastic and put the paint in the corner of my room.

Then I noticed a little scrap of notebook paper on my bed. I picked it up, puzzled and read it:

Check out the attic

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