It was the wrong house.
Use this as your opening line and start writing.
It was the wrong house, she had objected. And indeed, she had been right. Perhaps I should have minded her. Unfortunately for me, however, I have a nasty stubborn nature that must be right at all times, even when I'm not.
This fatal flaw is precisely why I found myself sitting alone on the front steps of a long-since abandoned house in a less than reputable part of town instead of inside a recently renovated house that was only decorated to look as if it had been abandoned for a rousing Halloween party.
I sat alone on those steps, debating what my next move would be. Should I go to the party, my tail betwixt my legs, in an admission of defeat? Should I go home and pretend that I hadn't want to go in the first place? Or better yet, should I go to a different party, take lots of picture, and upload them onto my social media accounts to show that I had been at a better, more excellent party?
"You do realize that this house is condemned, right?" She was a tall, willowy woman with fair hair that was unkempt and tidy at the same time, and she was barefoot and wore a long, thin dress that blew effortlessly in the light evening breeze.
"Let me guess," I said. "Hippie?"
She smirked mysteriously. "Not quite." I opened my mouth to guess again, but she continued. "Planning to catch a ghost or two?"
I smiled. "Not quite." She laughed. "No, I'm just contemplating what the rest of my night is going to be like."
"How so?" She sat down next to me, and I had to move over a bit to make room. "What are your options?" The smirk remained constant, revealing nothing yet saying so much.
That's where I got in 5 minutes. Perhaps I'll continue this later on down the road... Might be worthy of a #FridayFlash sometime.
What did you come up with?