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Hmm. A scary store eh? Well then...let me share a scary story with you...
I've always felt like there was something wrong with my house. I've felt a eerie sense of being watched since we first moved in. I couldn't have been older then twelve at the time. It was just my mother, little brother, and myself. I guess mom was trying to make a better life for us. Being a single mother with two children and a failed marriage hanging over her, she was a sad woman determined to salvage some form of dignity. We lived in a series of apartments until then. Shuffled around like so many random leaves in the wind from one part of the city to another. She worked hard to save her money for that house. It was a large two story building with a nice backyard, four bedrooms, a full attic and basement. I ended up in a bedroom in the back of the house, contrary to my wishes to have a bedroom in the front. Mom got that room and my little brother had the room closest to her. My own room was divided into two separate rooms, with the second room only accessible by crossing through the first room.
At first I was excited to have a house to live in rather then another apartment. Regardless of the room I had been stuck with. My brother and I enjoyed romping around the nearly empty rooms playing tag and hide and seek. It was during one of these games that I had my first experience. We were playing hide and seek, and I had run into mothers room to hide in the small closet that was in the corner. As I crept quietly into her room, I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in a old mirror that had been left in the house by the previous owners. It was a rather nice mirror, oval shaped with a black metal frame that curled around it in a ornate style. I stopped to look into that mirror as the hair's on the back of my neck began to rise.
I don't really remember what I saw in that mirror. I suspect my young mind was so shocked by it that I had somehow managed to blank out that particular memory. I do remember some things though. I remember feeling cold. I remember seeing a face that was not my own looking back at me. I remember pale skin and empty eyes which seemed to reach further back then the depth of the creatures skull. I also remember screaming and running from that room. My brother did not understand why our game was interrupted. I couldn't remember what I had seen, all I could tell him was I did not want to play anymore.
Nothing happened after that disruption for a long time. Nothing that I can honestly detail at least. I felt a unexplained sense of fear that nearly verged on terror every time I descended into the basement. I could never offer my mother a good excuse to avoid going down into that terrifying place. What could I tell her? Mom, I think the house is evil? She had worked so hard to provide us with this place to live. She worked two jobs just to keep us fed and clothed. This house was her crowning achievement. By giving us this house it was as if she had successfully managed to proclaim herself a good mother. I couldn't just tell her that this object that she used to validate her worth was filled with evil.
So I said nothing. I lived with the fear and watched as it effected my family and was helpless to do anything. My brother was afraid to be alone at any time in the house, though he never said why. He feared the basement as much as I did. My mother suffered sleepless nights due to nightmares that occurred more often then not. When you live with these feelings, over time you manage to convince yourself your just imagining things. You trick your mind into seeing and thinking what you want to see. However, you can't change how you feel things. You can tell yourself your just imagining things when you feel a pressure on your back as your going down the stairs. I was able to convince myself that what I had seen in that mirror was merely my over active imagination. A child that was trying to gain some form of attention from his mother by making up stories. That was all it was.
There is a danger to such mind tricks though. That danger comes in the form of reality crashing through that thin protective veil. It takes only one instance to break down that wall of comfort and then years of fear come rushing in to drown you. I lived in that house for eight years while ignoring the subtle effects of the house on my family. As I reached adulthood, I finally came face to face with the darkness that effected my childhood home. My little brother had gone off to college for the day. My mother had packed up and gone to visit a friend for a week. Not for the first time, I had the house all to myself and I foolishly thought it would be a nice restful day. I had settled myself into my bedroom with a book to pass the time. Sometime close to evening is when I felt it. That usual sense of being watched. As I had often in the past, I convinced myself that I was merely working myself up into a state of fear due to being alone. Mentally chastizing myself, I continued to read my book. A sudden chill fell upon the room, and the hair on the back of my neck rose. I tried to tell myself that it was only the fall weather. The sky outside had grown dark and the tree's outside my window had turned into shadowed blurs. Yet despite all of this I could not focus on my book. My eyes locked on the same sentence, uncomprehending it's words as the fear I had shaken off returned. I twisted my wrist to see how long it would be until my brother returned home, so I would not be alone any longer. It was this action that caused my eyes to catch something in the dark reflection of the window.
Now I must note that ever since that day with the mirror, I have had the strongest aversion to windows and mirrors in my home. Particularly after dark. This night though I could not help that glance I saw. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a dark figure pressed to the glass in the form of a shadowed reflection. Instantly I felt a colder chill overtake me, and the book slipped from my fingers to the floor. Instinctively I closed my eyes and turned my face away to deny what I had just seen. Gripped with fear I rose, and blindly I approached the window. I jerked the curtain closed over that reflective surface, and placed a hand over the rapidly beating heart. I repeated to myself. I had seen nothing. I had only seen my own reflection distorted in that window. Still, I was gripped by fear and the uneasy sensation would not fade. I attempted to return to my book, but the words eluded me.
A whisper of air brushed across the back of my neck, giving me a jolt where I sat. I turned slightly, but caught myself from looking over my shoulder. Some senseless part of my mind gripped for deniability. If I did not see it, I could pretend it was not there. If I could just avoid seeing whatever it was, I could make up my own excuse for what I had felt. It was just a stray breeze from some crack somewhere. Perhaps I had left the window open? Yet I would not turn or rise to check and see if the window was open at all. I could not do that, because if it was closed I did not have my convenient excuse anymore. In an attempt to free myself from the fear that gripped me, I set my book down and descended the stairs into the kitchen on the first floor. I hoped that by leaving my bedroom, where the fearful occurrences had happened, I could leave them behind and finish convincing myself that there was nothing to be afraid of.
I began to boil some water with the intention of making myself some tea. I was managing to calm myself through this simple routine. Just as I felt that my heart rate was finally returning to normal, I heard the voice. 'Luke' The voice said. My name spoken in a voice familiar to me. It was my brothers voice, though I knew he was not there. Still, I turned. Oh god...I turned and I looked. For the first time in years I looked. There, in the dark window of the kitchen door I saw something far more clearly then I had ever before. The figure was humanoid, it's blank eyes seemed focused upon me. It's mouth was open, but all I saw within was black darkness. It's withered pale flesh defied the black shadowy reflection it ought to have been. The reflection lurched forwards and grew larger in the window. I had no curtain to draw across it now. I had no means to hide it easily from my sight. The mug in my hand fell to the floor as my shrill scream of terror sounded.
"Luke" I heard the voice in my ear, and a icy cold air touched that half of my face. I jumped away, another fearful scream came from me. To my left was the door to the basement, and in turning I could see through the mysteriously open door that figure. Free of the reflective glass, it stood in the dark shadows and reached towards me. I moved to run in a terrified jerking motion. Yet as I approached the kitchen door that reflection in the glass reared up close and vivid. I felt as if my heart was going to stop. Something placed cold hands upon my shoulders, and fingers like bones dug into me. Before I had a chance to move or speak, the hands jerked me backwards. I stumbled under the pull, then jerked forwards and out of the grip. My body felt as cold as ice and my legs moved with a numb awkward jerking motion.I nearly fell as I ran out of the kitchen and through the joined dining room. Now I could not ignore it. Now I could not pretend that the images in the dining room windows was only a flash of my imagination or own reflection. I could see it now. Pursuing me, it's arms outstretched towards my fleeing form. I raced across the dining room and into the front hall. The air was so cold. So very cold.
"Luke" I heard the voice again. It was strong and demanding in tone. I did not look back this time. I reached the front door of the house. That wonderful blank metal door that my mother had replaced the old glass front door with. I ripped it open and flew through the archway. As I crossed over, I heard a deep gusting sigh of disappointment. I sopped outside of the house, and turned to look up at the house. Nothing was there though. I saw nothing in the dark windows. Nothing stood within the open front doorway. Nothing called my name...but I could not deny what I had seen. my shoulders ached from those fingers. Something had touched me. Something wanted me. Something had chased me and attempted to take me.
And it is still there. It still waits for me. It still wants me. I have left that house. But my mother and brother remain. I know what is there, lingering in the shadows and the darkness. They live on, oblivious to it, and I am helpless to pull them to safety away from that terrible evil which they do not believe in...
 Yousei Akki · Fri Apr 08, 2011 @ 11:40pm · 0 Comments |
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