The Mirror in the Third Bedroom: Part Three

I awoke to that same cold feeling.  I felt myself walking around the house.  The ghost must have repossessed me while I slept.  As my mind awoke, I tried to figure out what the ghost was having me do.  It seemed I was just wandering aimlessly.  After about an hour of this, I began to grow frustrated.  I had to break free.  It seemed the longer I was possessed the less will I had to fight back.  I struggled to move one of my fingers, trying harder even though I could feel the ghost growing angry.  I heard a loud cracking sound and everything went dark.
When I finally awoke, I was still standing.  I could feel an intense sore ache in my legs, as thought I had been standing for hours.  I wanted to cry out, but of course I couldn't.  The ghost was furious, and my head ached with its rage. I knew this time I would not be allowed to leave.
I was possessed for what felt like days.  I spent the time being forced to do pointless tasks like walking up and down the stairs.  Sometimes the ghost would make me walk over to the door and try the door knob, as though further proving that I was trapped, mocking me.  I tired to gage how long I had been there, in that wretched house.  But there was no difference between days.  The house was dark all the time. Cold all the time.
I felt no hunger, even sleep seemed needless.  My mind began to dull as time wore on, it seemed that the ghost had control of that two.  But still two nagging questions remained:  Who was the ghost?  and why had they decided to haunt me like this?  It could have just let me leave that morning. But it didn't. I kept pondering those questions until I finally asked the ghost. I thought clearly, trying to address the ghost, if it is possible to address something inside your own head, what it wanted to do with me.  I could feel it heard me.  I slowly began to turn towards the stairs.

(The final installment of The Mirror in the Third Bedroom will be posted on Halloween night)

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The Mirror in the Third Bedroom: Part Two

I woke the next morning with the sensation of falling.  I had slept through strange dreams.  I sat up abruptly, realizing where I was.  Even in the daytime, the house was dark.  The windows were boarded up from the inside, allowing only small beams of light to shine through.  The house seemed incredibly creepy in the daytime. I stood up and made my way quickly though the house to the front door.  The door was locked.  I shook the knob, rammed against the door and did whatever I could to open it, but the door would not budge.  I tried to ignore the growing pit of anxiety in my stomach. Don't worry, it's just an old door. There's probably another door somewhere. I told myself.  I looked throughout the house, but there were strangely no other leading out side.  Desperately, I tried to pry the boards loose from some of the windows, but those were nailed in strong.  My heart began to beat fast as I realized I was trapped.  I pulled out my cell phone, but it was dead.   I turned it over, and glanced at the familiar inscription.
This phone belongs to
Rebecca Jones
Somehow that reassured me, but not much.  I walked back to the front door.  My hand hovered for a moment, praying it would be unlocked, before I tried the knob again.  Still locked.  Now I was really worried. I had been gone all night, and even if I did make it out of this house, I would still be lost in the middle of this forest.  My parents must be worried sick.  I bit my lip thinking of them. The last time I had seen them, I yelled at them because they wouldn't let me go to Jeremy's party.  Now I might never see them again.  I shook my head, forcing myself not to think like that.  I was going to get out of here.  I looked into one of the mirrors and forced myself to calm down. I smiled a bit, which made me feel better.
Suddenly, I had the strange feeling that I wasn't alone. I glanced back up at the mirror.  In the upper right hand corner of the frame, I could see the faintest outline of a person standing behind me.  I spun around, but no one was there.  I turned back to the mirror and there was the person again, even closer this time.   I wanted to scream, but my voice was silent.  The face was old and wrinkled, with wide, horrifying, staring eyes.  It was oddly familiar.  The thing, perhaps it was a ghost, dove into my right shoulder.  The strangest feeling came over me.  This cold aching numbness spread throughout my body, starting at my shoulder.  Suddenly, I had no control of my right arm, and then my left, and then even my legs would not obey me.  I tried to fight it, tried to manage even a twitch that was under my control.  But as I did so, I could feel the ghost fighting back even harder.  It was angry.  I could sense it. It was like a distant anger in the back of my mind.  It was angry I was fighting back, it was angry I was here, it was angry I had seen it in the mirror. 
As soon as I realized this  my hand began to reach out towards the mirror.   My movements were slow, and stiff, either from me fighting back or from the ghost not being used to having a real body to control.  My hands gripped the sides of the frame and tore it from the wall.  They threw it onto the floor, shattering it.  My body walked throughout the house, in a tortuously slow and circuitous manner, shattering every mirror in sight.  It's impossible to describe what it is like to be unable to control your own limbs.  I felt like I was trapped inside my own body, with someone else pulling the strings.  I was trapped inside, looking out.  We, my body, me and the ghost that is, drifted up the stairs, and broke the mirrors in all the bedrooms, and along the walls on the upper floor.  But we avoided the third bedroom.  Time and time again, my body passed it, but never opened its door.  I do not remember how much time passed.
Finally, after all the mirrors were broken, the ghost left my body.  I crumpled to the floor, exhausted.  I shivered even though I wasn't cold.  I must have fallen asleep at some point, but I knew my troubles were far from over.

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The Mirror in the Third Bedroom: Part One

 

It was the middle of autumn in that dull period when the trees are only half changed.  I walked home from school as fast as I could. Dark clouds had been gathering all day and now they had become a very worrying greenish-purple color.  Soon the wind picked up, causing the trees to sway slightly.  It wasn't long before it developed into a strong squall, the wind ripping even the green leaves from the trees.  Rain pelted my face as I ran towards the trees for shelter from the stinging rain that bludgeoned me from all directions.  My eyes were closed and I ran against the wind, trying hard not to trip.  I couldn't tell how far I had run, until I finally opened my eyes.  The wind had calmed somewhat, though it was incredibly dark.   It was no longer raining, but it was possible that the tree cover protected me from it.  I stood for a moment, waiting for the storm to end as I caught my breath.  Just as quickly as it had started, the sky began to grow brighter.  I was not on the edge of the forest like I had assumed, I was deep into it, and hopelessly lost.  The trees grew sinister and every shadow seemed to be moving with some unknown terror.  I forced myself to calm down.  It was impossible for me to have gone very far, seeing as I hadn't tripped or run into any trees.  It was mathematically improbable that I would have randomly chosen a path with no trees in the way.  
I set out the way I thought I had come.  I wandered for about an hour, shivering and drenched to the bone.  Finally I saw a bit of clearing up ahead.   I rushed towards it, hoping that I had finally come to the edge of the forest.  But I hadn't.  It appeared that I had only gone deeper, and the edge of the forest was actually a place where the trees had thinned out.  I came to the edge of it, prepared to turn around when I saw a large house in the center of the clearing.  It seemed pretty well taken care of from the outside, and it wasn't decrepit or anything, so surely there was someone who lived there that could at least point me in the right direction. 
I rang the doorbell.   It was one of the old ones, with a loud organ somewhere deep in the house that gave a 4 note ring.  It echoed throughout the house, causing it to shake slightly.  The house gave off a worrying creak, but that was no matter, anyone in the house would have heard the bell.  I stood there fidgeting for about 10 minutes before I knocked loudly on the door.  It had begun to rain again, negating any drying my clothes had done. When still no one came, and tried the door knob.  The door swung open and I took a hesitant step inside. 
"Hello?" I called out.  No reply, "Is anyone here?" 
The house seemed considerable larger from the inside.  A grand marble staircase winded up to the second floor at the end of the foyer.  But the house was deserted.  Sheets hung over the pictures on the wall, and a vase of dead flowers sat on a sheet covered table near the corner.  I peaked under one picture frame, but it was actually a mirror.  I walked all through the house, calling to see if anyone was home.  I looked into each room counting as I went.  In the second closet, there was an antique lamp, and in the third bedroom a large mirror that nearly covered the entire wall, and was strangely enough uncovered.  I returned down stairs.  The house was empty and it was getting dark.  I could at least try to get a bit of sleep before I tried to get home in the morning.  I lied down on the cleanest couch I could find, trying to get warm and ignore my soaked clothes and hungry stomach.  It took me ages to fall asleep.   I finally drifted off into a very dark dream, but not before I thought I heard the faintest click, like the sound of a door being locked.

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Its Like They Gave Us Freedom? Or something...

So we've been essentially told that our blogs our boring.  I'm not quite sure why the teachers are suprised, seeing how every blog post was just a school assignment that was posted on the internet.  School kinda squashes individuality and creativity like that sometimes (or most of the time). 
I don't really know what I am going to write about, because I don't really feel like writing about painting or soccer, and seeing how I don't do much else besides that and homework, this might be a bit difficult.  I mean really what do I write about?  Politics? I have opinions, but I really don't feel like writing about them.  Some TV show I like? eh...  Sports? I still haven't found a Barclays team I like yet.  (we now get fox soccer which shows Barclays Premeir League (soccer) like all the time)  Besides, I'll leave the sports opinions to Landon.  Music? no...I barely even listen to the radio...

I suppose I'll figure it out once I see what everyone else is writing about. (just you wait, my next post might actually be about one of these topics) Hope y'all enjoyed this mini-post.