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*click* *click* *click*
The sound of me pressing the mouse button was too loud, as always. Or maybe the house was too quiet. I hated being in the living room all by myself this late, but I had to. I’d promised Kay I would stay up until she came back home, so if our grandmother woke up I could lie for her. She had gone out with her friends without permission again, and I would have to cover for her. The light from the T.V. won’t stop flickering as the screen goes fuzzy again and again. I keep asking my grandmother to buy a new one, but she refuses. She doesn’t understand how upsetting it is to me.
It’s extremely cold. It always gets cold around this time, once midnight has passed. That’s when the creepy things happen. The voices of people on the radio distort, becoming strange whispers. I can sense the presence of someone walking back and forth through the kitchen, which is right behind this room, with half a wall for a divider. I see the shadows in the corner of my eye, flittering this way and that. My heart hammers away in my chest, and it feels as if my lungs are being crushed. I am terrified, yet somehow calm. Why should I be afraid? This happens every night. As long as I keep my eyes fixed on the computer monitor, everything will be fine.
About an hour later, I feel very thirsty. I try to ignore it, but that makes it worse. I will have to go into the kitchen and get some water. I move slowly, almost mechanically, looking behind me after every step. But nothing’s there. It’s just my imagination running rampant. As I turn around after closing the fridge, something down the hall catches my eye. The hallway leading to me bedridden great aunt’s door is dark as always, and her door is closed. But there seems to be something off about it. Part of the darkness is moving. I make out a figure draped in a dark cloak, hovering slightly above the ground, directly in front of the door. Their head pops up, and they begin to turn toward me. But I never get to see their face. The glass of water falls from my hand and I run as fast as I can, too horrified to scream. Flipping each light switch as I go along, I try to recall the Bible verses my grandmother had drilled into my head, but nothing comes. I trip over my own feet and fall, then drive myself against a wall and stay there, sobbing.
“Honey, wake up. Wake up.” I open my eyes, my head feeling foggy. My grandmother is standing in front of me, looking worried. “What are you doing on the floor?”
As I recall what happened last night, a wave of terror rushes over me. I jump up and fly into my grandmother’s arms, crying.
“There, there, honey. It’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Grammy it was awful! I was getting some water, and there was this thing, this person in a black coat in front of Aunt Jean’s door, and I was so scared!” She pats my back reassuringly, but then pushes me away, holding my shoulders.
“Wait a minute, when was this?”
“Huh?” I say, dreadfully confused.
“When did you see this person? What did they look like? Was it a man or a woman?”
“I don’t know. I was too scared to stand around and look. I guess it was after one, though.”
“Honey, do you know what you saw?”
“No ma’am.”
“Why, early this morning, someone called me and told me one of Aunt Jean’s old friends passed away last night, just around one. You must have seen him while he was visiting her before he moved on!” I look up at my grandmother, and hope this doesn’t run in the family.
“Grammy, you’re way too superstitious.”
- by Aurora Lee Ann |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 02/26/2012 |
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- Title: The Witching Hour
- Artist: Aurora Lee Ann
- Description: A very true story of something that happened to me when my cousin (Kay) and I used to live with my grandmother.
- Date: 02/26/2012
- Tags: witching hour
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