Short Horror Stories

Moving out

As the late summer sun shines through the dusty window, I calmly sit inside my apartment, doing nothing much but observing it to its very detail.

A gentle shower ticks onto my window and as I look outside I take notice of the many colors of a rainbow outside.

Moments like these have always been rare, perhaps this might even be the first time that I have sat here like this, perhaps it is the first time that I have looked at this place the way I'm doing now.

Silly, really.

Now that all my stuff sits in boxes around me and all the cabinets and closets have been emptied, even the fridge has been emptied of its contents, I sit here in this almost empty apartment.

Everything I own sits in these boxes, waiting to be taken away to another place.

It feels so strange to see a place so familiar turn back to the unfamiliarity of when you first entered.

I don't feel like doing anything right now, so I just enjoy the moment, just observing, no distractions. Something I now regret not having done more of.

I sit on the couch that has yet to be taken away, the one thing that couldn't fit in a box, not even a couple of them.

I've had this couch since I started living here and have many fond memories of. Like that time when friends stayed over and one had to sleep on the couch. Or the many sleepless nights in which I ended up deciding to watch the strangest movies I could find whilst, almost falling asleep on this piece of furniture.

I find it most unfortunate that my old radio has already been placed in a box, I can't listen to it now. Strangely, I never even used that thing so much, yeah the cd function, but not listening to the news or the actual radio. I guess it doesn't matter, I now have the soft rain and the chirping birds and the occasional car driving by as my companion in the silence of my room.

I look again at the boxes surrounding me.

In that box over there are all of the cd's I've been saving up, music, film, even some games. Some famous, some niche. A lot of the cases look worn, due to frequent use, time or dropping them a couple of times. I know I should be more careful with stuff like that, but it just happens sometimes.

I wonder how many of those cd's I've spared up now, I also wonder if I put some of the old video tapes in there as well. Or was it in the other box?

On the floor I can see markings of where I used to have all the other furniture and other stuff.

Before me, I used to have my coffee table, I can clearly see the markings on the floor now that it is gone, they're much paler than the rest of the floor, looking much more used. Perhaps I should have put something under it like a carpet.

Well, not that it matters now.

As I let my gaze wander again I stop to look at the box that's holding my tv inside.

It is a really old TV, no flatscreen at all. It's a big and very heavy object and in all truth I prefer it like that, it has something nostalgic every time I would turn it on and it would greet me with the comforting white snow.

I remember one night on which I can swear that it went on, on its own. Though this building's superintendent has told me time and time again that it must have been something with the cables or just the age of the old tv.

Well anyway I'm going to miss the old, heavy object.

It's just my stuff that is moving out after all.

I'm staying here.

Don't think anything weird, I'm not going to hide here, like in some horror stories.

It's more like, I can't leave.

You probably already know this, but I'm dead.

You saw the body, my body, get moved out of here, remember?

As my neighbor you should know.

As my neighbor you should also know my cause of death.

As my neighbour you should have heard... you know.

You are the one that called the police after all.

Right?

It wasn't normal.

It wasn't an accident.

It wasn't suicide.

The owner told you to keep quiet about it, right?

He told you to stay put too, right?

Well, I don't recommend it, my friend.

If you value your life, you should leave at the soonest possible moment.

Because he is coming back.

And next...

He will be coming for you.