Short Stories

Hearing Things

The day I ended my own life is a day I would never be able to erase, if I was alive. It all started with me walking home, the rain pouring down on me, muggy and wet it was, as I sluggishly dragged myself to the place I call home. The water felt slimy and humid on my bare back, and I longed to be dry. The dark, old house awaited my arrival and the dank smell of my house haunted me, even my room was no escape. The house was perched on the top of a hill, not welcoming to it's visitors. The dead trees around the house swayed with the wind, the lifeless branches scratching away at the paint of the aged house.

This dark night haunted me, there was no light, even the moon, was hidden to the human eye. Not a star in sight, there was no light. The crows cawed, making a mockery of me, walking home in the midst of the night. As the night dawned on, still there was nobody around. Alone I was, afraid too.

Arriving at the place I call home, I turned the rusty doorknob to see if it was locked. It was, so I reach in my pocket and grab my key that opens the house. Slowly I entered the cold and dark house. Reaching for the icebox, I grab something to eat. My treat leaves a hint of strawberry and mint, a weird but appealing combination. Sitting on the dusty couch, I sneeze. The dust makes it's way into my nostrils, tickling the even tiniest nose hairs. Grabbing a thick book, I open the torn pages and flip to the chapter I wish to read. The glimmer of the flickering lantern lights my book, that being the only light in the house.

After a while, I grow bored from reading, so I find something else to do. I am very cold and lonely. I creep up the stairs to my quarters. The air was dank and chilly - very musky too. I lay on my bed, surrounded by my thoughts. Staring into my closet, I see a light, faint, but still it's there. I go closer. A step. Another step. In my closet lay the creature of my nightmares. A girl, staring up at me, but not a girl, a doll, white eyes, staring into my soul. Was she there yesterday? I think not! Then the voices started. The voices that make little girls shriek, and grown men cry.

"Who's there?" I ask. "Hello?" Yet the voices do not respond. Again I ask, "Hello?" There was no response. Did anyone else hear that? Or was I the only one? The voices moves from room to room, crashing and slamming, muttering too. I'm surrounded by darkness and confused, very confused.

"Get out!" I yell. "I know you're there!" But the voices do not respond. Trying hard to figure out who is wondering around my house, I go out of me room, fear surrounding me. Scared I am, but ready to fight. I must be, for the enemy is near. I can hear the heartbeat of my victim, one that soon shall not beat anymore, not when I'm done. My heavy breathing increases.

Once again I yell, "Thou shalt not hide! Come out! I know you're there, yet not where you lay, but the beating or your heart is heard."

The victim is close, I can feel their fear, that is equal to mine. The increasing steps, closer, closer I creep, to the sound, of a beat. Thump. Thump thump. My heart rate is faster now, more than ever. For what is that sound in my house? I grab the nearest lantern and turn it on. A yellow light projects from the vessel, lighting my path. The boards on which I walk creak, and the dust comes up. I see a figure, in the wash room. I walk closer, but it seems that it's just the dirty laundry. Closer I step, the voices grow louder. I pace, back and forth trying to decide what to do next. Then I hear footsteps. They come closer and closer, my heart beating faster by the second.

"Who's there!?" I ask, my voice shivering as my courage starts to fade. I walk into the bedroom. Someone must be in there, because the rocking of a chair is heard. Slowly, oh so slowly, I creak open the bedroom door. The room is empty. There was someone there before, just a second ago I swear! My blood runs cold. I turn around to escape, and there stands the "intruder." She glares at me with her evil, red eyes.

"Hello,"she smiles with what I think are big teeth and fangs.

I knock her down so fast I forget what was happening in the first place, "I'm so sorry!"

"For what?" she whispers faintly, she is somewhat unconscious anyway.

"It is... just you Au... Audrey... right?" I stutter.

"Who's Audrey?"

Quickly, I run to another room, my own, but the door shut before I could get inside. The ghost, or whatever it is, creeps up behind me. Turning around, I swat at it, but I miss and hit myself.

"Come on Audrey, this isn't funny!" I yell. But she steps out from the bedroom. I'm scared. Is someone pranking me? Because this has gone too far. What am I supposed to do? The last glimmer of hope escapes from my soul. I sit down on the floor, put my head on my knees, and pray. I pray that the demons in my house leave. I pray that my family will make it home safely, and I pray that I will wake up from this terrible nightmare. But does God hear me? Does he hear my pleads for help, my cries for safety?I believe that soon everything will be alright. But for now, I call the police.

I crank the rusty telephone to call authorities. It rings, once, twice, then they pick up. "There are intruders in my house! What am I to do?" I wail into the phone.

"We will be there shortly," the police officer justifies.

As I wait for the police to arrive, I cry. Finally after what seems like hours, the police arrive, and they break in to get upstairs as fast as they can.

"I don't hear anything," one officer states.

"Me neither," the other officer agrees.

"I swear! There are demons in my house! One spoke to me when I encountered them. Why don't you hear them!?"

"Is there anything out of place?" the third officer asks.

"No officer, I don't think so," I reply, worried what they might say.

"I believe you are hearing things miss," The officers accuse.

"Do you think me mad? I swear! Am I the only one who hears it? Get out! I say, get out! If you're going to pretend you don't hear anything and call me mad I want you out!"

"We swear. We don't hear anything. If you would like, we could take you somewhere you might feel safe," the officers suggest.

"I shall stay here! I will not rest until the beating of that heart is stopped, until that intruder does not mock me any longer."

I go into my quarters, with a new found courage to search for the voices. Where is she? The beating of the heart gets louder and faster, like the steady beat of a drum. Still, I cannot locate the being. The officers stand watch, but them being there ices my soul, shivers my spine. I told them to get out if they weren't going to help. I want them gone, now more than ever. I need to be alone. Alone with the intruder. I have searched high and low and still the being does not show.

"Where?!" I yell. The officers come to my side to aid me. I slip out my knife for defense. "Out!" I command. "Before one of you loses a limb!"

"You are losing it" The officer tells me. "You shan't be alone anymore." They drag me out of my chamber, taking me outside. Then I hear it again, thump, thump thump.

"Where is that noise?" I am getting very irritated and they tell me I am going crazy. I am anything but mad. They don't want to admit I'm right, but I am, I always am, but they don't want me to have satisfaction that I am right.

The noise grows and the police officers stare at me as I look around eagerly. I need to get that heart, and end it for the better. They still don't hear it? I am not mad! What do they want? If they want money, I have none. If they want dignity, I have lost mine.

"We shall leave you alone, if you promise to be safe. You are the only one who hears the voices. You need help."

"Strangers! Get out! For the last time I am not crazy!" At that, I slit my own throat with the knife in my hands. The noises were too overwhelming for me to bear. The police officers stand there watching and I breathe my last breath. Falling on the ground with a thud, I drop the sharp knife out of my bloody hands and gurgle my last words, I'm... not... mad."