A Short Story: Kim

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This is my first short story I've written so go easy on me.(:

Enjoy!

A Short Story: Kim

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Kim made a cup of earl gray tea and nestled under her down comforter. Ensconced by the glow of her reading lamp, she opened her volume of ghost stories and settled in for the night. Her parents had taken her younger brother and sister away for a weekend getaway, but she wanted to stay behind, preferring much needed peace and quiet. She was an unusual seventeen year old, valuing her time alone with a good book over the typical high school party taking place just a few blocks away. 

She studied the table of contents, trying to remember which stories she had already read before settling in on The Empty House, finding the title agreeable. It took less than a minute for her to tune out her surroundings and focus her attention entirely on the story. Kim was one of those connoisseurs of fiction who didn't simply read the words printed on the page. Rather, she crawled into the story, vividly imagining every scene as though each and every detail were projected to her mind's eye. 

BEEP! BEEP! Kim looked up from her book with a start and smiled when she realized it was just her phone. She picked it up from the night stand and turned it off without even looking to see who texted her. She took a deep breath and found her place in her book. It was dark out and the house was completely quiet save for the sound of a breeze rustling the leaves of the tree outside her second story bedroom.

She finished her first story and consults the table of contents for another. This ritual of hers will continue on well into the night. A few minutes later she was engrossed in the tale of a demon that possesses a young girl. She is five pages in when RRRRRING! Disoriented, she looks to her phone, but RRRRRING! realizes that it's coming from the land line downstairs. She checked her clock, it's already after eleven. Fearing an emergency, she raced down the dark stairway to the living room, but it's too late, the ringing had stopped. She stopped short of the phone and finds herself alone in the large dark entryway.

She lingered by the phone for a minute or two before heading back up the stairs. She turned her phone on and scrolled through her texts, but nothing was noteworthy. She slid it back under the covers and resumed reading. She hadn't been reading long when, THUMP, something hit the roof directly above her bed. Her eyes dart to the ceiling but there was nothing to be seen. Seconds later, she heared another thump, only this time its followed by the sound of something rolling across the synthetic shingles of the roof. She paused anticipating the next collision, but there is only silence. She picked up her book, but before she makes it to the sixth word, THUMP, PAT PAT PAT. Kim darted up out of bed and looked out her window, but there was nothing to be seen. Maybe a straggler or two from the party down the street? 

MEOWWWW. No, it's just the neighbors cat. Kim took a deep breath and crawled back into bed. She was on edge, but that is the whole point of the game. Avenging spirits and demonic children are the fuel for the fire. The breeze has escalated to a cool northern wind causing the fingerlings of the tree branches to occasionally brush against her window. The first TAP, TAP,  

SCRAAAAAPE a moment of alarm and then brings a smile to her face. 

She had moved on at this point to a yarn about a college girl who comes home to find her roommate's blood on the walls. It's your typical urban legend with obvious undertones, but just as she's about to reach the 

end--THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! 

Kim pulled her book to her chest as the adrenaline took over. What was that?  

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!Someone is knocking on the front door. She started to get up from her bed, but paused half way, holding herself in an awkward pose. She cocked her head, alarmed and unsure of herself.  

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!  

There is an urgency to the knocking. Kim's eyes are wide with fear and she's breathing heavily. "It's probably just Amy or Jake," she saed to herself, trying to imbue herself with confidence. "They're just drunk, those idiots!"  

Resolute, she lifted herself from the bed and creeped to the bedroom door. She made her way down the dark hallway to the staircase and followed them down, stepping lightly as though not to wake anyone. She paused at the foot of the landing and craned her head towards the door. The entryway was dark, so she squinted and peered towards the front door, but was greeted by silence.  

"Jake . . . Amy?," she whispered. There was no answer. She stepped forward and confronted the peephole. "Who's there? Hello?" She waited for an answer, hoping for a familiar voice, but there is only silence and the sound of her breathing.

Shaken, she turned and ascended the stairs, trying her best to walk lightly. The floorboards creaked with each step and the slower she went, the louder they grew. "Dammit," she muttered. She took another step and another, but the floorboards were groaning beneath her. She hesitated for a moment and with a sudden burst, sprinted up the stairs and into her room where she dove into bed.

Moments passed. "You're being silly," she tells herself. "It was just Jake and Amy, or some other drunk friends," she said soothingly. She turned off her reading lamp and the room turned black. She was safe there, secure, beneath the sanctuary of her comforter. Her breathing slowed and she talked herself down. The cat, the phone, the knock at the door. They all have innocent explanations to anyone who didn't waste their time with nonsensical ghost stories. Normal kids who go to parties would take these things for what they are. She reassured herself. Perfectly normal. She pulled the covers tights and slowly began to adjust to her dark surroundings. It was all nothing.  

She began to grow tired and soon she couldn't keep her eyes open. The steady whir of the heater was lurring her to sleep. Fifteen minutes later, the heat was still blowing. Kim kicked the comforter away, but the heat was relentless. She tossed and turned, wrestling the sheets free, but it was no use. In a fit of frustration, she got up from her bed and slides the window open.

She tries to get comfortable again, but it was no use; the wind had died down and her room was quiet except for the heater. She waited, but it was no use, the heat continued to blow. She stirred and rised from bed, neglecting the light to make her way downstairs. She'll find the thermostat at 90, but that's besides the point. It's late now and she's finally invited me in. An open window, a walk-in closet, the night's not over, and now it's time to play my game.

(C) Copyright 2012 Jared Cox