My mind was reeling, I felt dizzy and light headed all of a sudden. This woman's cold stare was enough to make me shiver, enough to make my legs shake in fear. It was like a death sentence, all in one glance. I found myself looking away, because I felt like if I looked back then that would make things worse.
Why was I here? Who was she? Why did my mum say she wanted me to 'play'? I didn't know. I didn't think I wanted to find out anyway.
Tentatively, I went to take a step forward. But somehow I managed to take a step backwards instead. The only reaction I got from the woman was a laugh. Not just any laugh, a mocking laugh. One that sounded scratchy and crackly, like one that belonged to a witch. Except, I wouldn't call this woman a witch. Witches are living. This woman didn't seem like she was living. She just seemed like a bag of skin, wrinkled and worn with age, that was lost and confused. So no, I wouldn't exactly describe this woman as being a witch.
I wanted to go home. That was the only thought running through my head that didn't have the hairs on the back of my neck standing up; or having my legs quake under fear and my palms sweaty with nerves.
Despite this, I didn't want to seem rude. This woman was probably on her own, and I don't suspect that the girl was much company. I shuddered at the thought of the girl's own harsh stare, and how it would be ironic if the two were somehow mother and daughter then they both had the gene of frightening looks. What little good that thought did for me- if anything it just sent my mind into a whole new series of questions and assumptions.
I was so deep into my thoughts that I hadn't noticed the woman's attention had been refocused on the next room. I didn't move. I was scared to move; or was I scared of her attention being back on me? The room was now once again eerie silent. I looked around at the dense, dimly lit room. To say that there were at least fifty candles scattered all over I found it quite dark. Probably because the curtains were drawn tight, too tight. So tight I thought that if someone was try to pull them any tighter they would rip.
I didn't feel safe here. Not at all. But I didn't know how to get out. I looked about me for the nearest exit and I found that it was either through the other room-which would mean walking straight into the woman's line of sight- or going through the door I just did which would risk running into the girl from before. I couldn't decide which was worse. The girl or the woman. Both of them were scary, just different types of scary. The woman didn't speak at all, but she had a cold, hard look about her features. The girl from earlier did speak, in a snappy way and also had a hard look. So, it was hard to decide who I wanted to run from more.
I was just about to take a step forward when I heard something. I'm sure it was just my imagination, but then I heard it again. It was a whisper, but the whisper of a ghost. I looked at the woman and she was still staring into the room next door. What was it? Who was it?
"Your time is up," the woman said, still not looking at me. Her voice was scratchy and high pitched, and was enough to send a whole new set of shivers through me. "Your time is up," she repeated.
I was just about to ask what she meant when I was suddenly grabbed from behind and dragged backwards. "You stupid boy, disturbing her that way," came the girl's harsh voice.
"I-I don't understand," came my stuttered protest.
"You don't need to. You just need to go, get out of here and hope that you never have to return. This place is death, although it is a source of life. It's dark and it's haunting. So go. Revertimini solum actum peccati." With that, she pushed me out of the house.
I didn't hesitate, as soon as I got out of the sigh of the house, I took off running.
