The Lady In The Cupboard

Chapter 2

I wake up. Check the clock, 9:42. Crap, late for school. Probably not even worth going now, they'd give me a detention. I turn around and sit up. Something isn't right. This isn't my room. It's to detailed and full of things. I can't be  in the attic. I'm not even in my house. Last thing I remember was imagining a strange, kind yet creepy looking girl next to my bed laughing at me. But it was definetly my imagination. Nobody can teleport. Nobody can get into my house. Or my room.
I get up, and pull back the curtains from the window. It's pitch black outside. Someone must've changed the clock. I squint to see, and manage to see a girl. A pale, dead look on her face, swinging. Just like in my dream. I pinch myself, this isn't real. I'd rather be awake again than have to watch this. Awake in my own room, reading the same book for the 16th time. My eyes don't flicker, nothing happenes. Wind brushes the tree branches onto my window, and I step back. It's cold. Freezing cold. I open one of two closets in the room. My short pyjamas aren't helping the situation. A dressing gown, and old top covered in a red stain and a pair of torn shoes is all that occupies the space. I settle for the dressing gown. I tie up the front, and walk out the door that I could've sworn was closed before. I shut it behind me. Must've been the wind, I tell myself.
The television is off. A red light glares at me from the bottom left corner. I wonder at where I am. I turn my head. The curtains are covered in a red stain that appears as a bloody handprint. The walls have holes and tears in them. I don't like it here. Actually, I prefer it up in the attic. The only similarity is that the rain continues to pour down. I turn back. The red light looks a lot brighter than before. 'Your making things up,' I tell myself; 'You don't need to make this any more scary than it already is.' I would call for help, for a name, but I don't want any attention to be drawn to myself in case that those were bloody hands. I'm scared. I want my nana and pa. Even if they hate me. A single tear runs down my cheek. I go to brush it, but again it is completely dry. Ring a ring a Rosie, a pocket full of posey. Ashes . Ashes. We all fall down. A young girl sings. Again, a tear falls down my cheek. My heart is pounding.
I hear a voice. One that speaks sharply, but quietly.
"Hello?"