Amethyst

The old bathroom door creaks invitingly as you open it, clutching the hairbrush somewhat nervously. You never know what weird bugs might be in this huge old house. Luckily, you find none, and you use the bathroom, wash your hands, brush your teeth, and begin to comb and brush your hair. It falls to your waist, sleek and dark as a ravens wing, the pride of your life. You smile at yourself in the mirror, then find a dainty silver antique clip to pull it away from your face. Just then you hear a loud creak overhead, and nearly jump out of your skin. What in the heck was that?? Nothing's up there but the... attic?