Underage

[10] Ghostly Scares

Underage

[10] Ghostly Scares

I'll never get used to living alone. It's always so quiet that I have to leave the television on in every room just to bring some noise to the apartment. Although, that does wonders to my electricity bill. It's barely eleven at night, with nothing on TV and the everlasting smell of burned rice in the kitchen. I've come to start talking to myself. In the blanket of silence, you'll do anything to keep it from suffocating you. When I was living with my parents it was quiet. They let me have my space unless boys or school were involved. And even with school they left me alone, unless a report card came out.

That kind of quiet and this kind of quiet are different.

With my parents, I could always hear my mom opening and closing cabinets, or her footsteps on the floor as she paced and muttered to herself. My father always had a baseball game on despite whether he cared for the teams or not.

A creak in the floor-boards has my back straightening. It creaks again, like footsteps making their way down my hallway. I swear to all things holy, Ethan, if that's you, I am going to kill you. With my dishes forgotten, I wipe my hands on the towel lying on the counter. My cable box has turned off. It leaves the television on a blue screen so I quickly turn it back on. The news is what comes on, and I don't bother changing the channel. I can see the entire hallway from here. There's no one. It creaks again, the sound not quite coming from the hallway but definitely from that side of my home.

Thankfully, as the paranoid person I am, I have multiple bats hidden around the house. My mother vetoed any kind of gun in my home, so I had to come up with the next best thing. My father had tried to buy a Taser for me before I moved out, but my mother returned it before I could even hold it. Although, when Valerie gave me a few of their old bats, my mother was all for it. There's one beneath my bed, another behind the couch, and one more in a closet in the hallway. I slip my hand behind the couch and pull out the bat.

"Ethan?" I call out. No answer.

"This isn't funny anymore, Ethan," I call to the empty house, but I get no reply.

When I heard the footsteps earlier I almost rolled my eyes. Does he need to be so sneaky? Why can't he just knock on the front door and have me let him in?

I hear the footsteps again, this time coming from the hallway. I pivot on my heel and make my way towards the sound. There's nothing there. I fall down onto my couch, my eyes darting everywhere. I still have no idea where he's hiding. I dial the familiar phone number and press call. Instead of hearing the ringing of his phone, I don't hear anything. Seconds later, the phone is answered.

"It's about time you called me. I can be over in five minutes."

My heart stops. "You're not already here?"

"Of course not, why would you think that?"

"I swear to all things good, Ethan, if you're messing with me right now I am going to mess up that pretty face of yours." My grip tightens on the bat as another creak sounds out, this time coming from the kitchen. There isn't any way somebody could be in my kitchen—they would have to walk by me to get there.

"Thea, tell me what's going on?" His voice takes on an edge of concern. He's talking too loud on the phone for him to be in my apartment. The noise would have echoed throughout the entire place thanks to the thin walls.

I drop my voice to a whisper, my eyes filling with tears. "Ethan?" I take a deep breath. My heart is beating wildly and my stomach drops. If he's not in my apartment, then who is?