That evening, I fell asleep on the sofa. I never returned to my room until sunrise. Even my parents hadn't bothered to disturb me whilst I slept. And, I felt grateful the creature in the wall had also not bothered to disturb me. I felt tired from work yet I knew any chance of sleep would be interrupted by the two eyes staring at me from behind the wall. Still, I knew I would have to go back to my bedroom sooner rather than later. As I stepped inside the first thing I did was check the hole in the wall. It was void of anything; just an empty black hole bordered by crumbling plaster. My heart sank at the total destruction I had caused by not finishing my decorating.
I showered, changed, and headed downstairs for breakfast. As usual, my parents had already left for work by the time I entered the kitchen. With my earphones firmly placed I hadn't heard them leave. I removed the paper towel from the cereal bowl and stared at the heap of bran. I poured the jug of milk fresh from the fridge and began to tuck in. As I munched I heard a strange voice. I stared around the kitchen. I saw no one. I began munching. I heard the voice again—speaking my name. I removed my earphones.
'Mum. Dad.' By this time I had kicked the stool from underneath me and began to walk around the breakfast bar. 'Mum. Dad.' I kept repeated my call for my parents like a youngling in the wild. My parents didn't speak back. Nor could they, for they had long left for work.
Then it hit me: I wonder if I could see whatever it was from the other side. There was only one way to find out. I would check out the back bedroom what the wall partitioned.
I cautiously crept up the stairs, armed with a cereal spoon. It was typical horror show stuff, and the spoon's only use was to help satisfy hunger; whatever rested behind the walls didn't seem very appetising. My palm creaked the back-bedroom door open. I saw nothing.
'Where are you?' I asked into the abyss. 'Who are you?'
At first I heard no sound.
'Cold.' I thought I heard it say. 'Co-old.'
'Who is that?' I asked. 'Reveal yourself.'
'Warmer before; cold now.'
A scrambling sound almost had me running for my life as it rushed through the walls. However, once it rested inside the wall I faced all fell silent. Until. . .
'Austen.'
The sound of my name being spoken from behind the walls had me gasping.
'Hello, Austen.'
At that point I truly felt I was about to die of fright. Fragments of plaster began to crumble from the walls.
'H-hello,' I dared to speak back. 'W-who are you?'
'Your friend—Freddie. Mr. Freddie Fanshawe.'
The realisation I must be hallucinating hit me. I ran. I ran fast and hard out of the house—straight to Carly and Bob. Right then I needed a friend-and not one that lived behind the walls.
YOU ARE READING
He Lives in the Wall
Teen FictionMoving to a new town, making new friends is always going to be a challenge. Lonely Austen hates his creepy new house. Feeling emotionally abandoned by his parents, Austen is willing to make friends with anyone, including the strange monster-creature...