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.
Image Credit
No comments:
Post a Comment