Thirty One Days

Sheets

"Good morning," Mom's voice echoed around in my head as I slowly came to consciousness. If mom was still here then it had to be before seven in the morning.
The sun had just pulled itself up over the horizon and spilled into my room. I vaguely wondered if the sun had a smell.
"Come on lazy bones," Mom walked over to where I was laying in bed, "I only need a few seconds of your precious time." She joked as she pierced my cheek with her long, red dagger nails.
Rolling over into my back I attempted to smile at her but it felt fake and awkward. "What do you need?"
As she was checking her tight blonde bun in my mirror she said, "I've laid out your clean sheets, they're in the kitchen," She meet my eyes through the mirror and smiled. "Please change your sheets and the ones in your brothers room. He "forgot" to do so before leaving yesterday."
"Okay," And with that she planted a kiss on top of my head and left, leaving my door slightly open.
By the time I had awoken again it was well past morning, my body protested as I crawled out of bed and stripped my bed, piling the sheets in the hallway. Then moved to my brothers room to strip his sheets, which smelt of sweat and burgers. I laughed to myself when I remembered when Dylan tried to be vegetarian for some girl he was dating.
When I turned around to collect his sheets one was missing, I decided not to worry about it because he probably didn't put it on to begin with. Did I remember taking it off his bed though? Maybe, I thought about this as I entered the hall way. I came to a sudden stop, there was the missing sheet floating in the air.  It wasn't just floating, not like it was hung up or being held, but in the shape of a man. The man had no feet though. The air grew stiff between us with anticipation building. Who would give first?
I began to blink rapidly and the figures responded with a moan, I couldn't tell if it was of agony or pleasure. Was it taking pleasure in my reaction? Did it need help? I was the last person it should go to for that. Did the man just want to be seen? It jerked suddenly then fell still again, I backed into my brothers room trying to create some sort of distance between us.
Without warning the sheet rushed towards me and as I tried to get away, I tripped and tried to cover my face. However no pain came, when I finally uncovered my face the sheet was gone. Lying peacefully next to Dylan's bed where I had place it originally. 
After watching it for a handful of minutes I bundled it up with the others and headed down towards the kitchen. The clean sheets were sitting on the kitchen table so I threw the used sheets into the washroom. Ensuring that they still remained motionless before grabbing a protein bar and heading upstairs with the clean, spook-free sheets.
As I started with Dylan's room I kept feeling as though someone was watching me but no one was ever there. I moved to my room and started on my bed, however I had to stop half way through do to a sudden nose bleed. Due to all of the medications that I was taking, nose bleeds were a familiar occurrence.
I hadn't been in my bathroom since the incident two days ago, in fact I had kept the door shut for fear that whatever the shadow was now inhabited my bathroom. However, as I entered today it was pleasant to know that my worrying was useless.
As I rummaged through the cabinet in my bathroom, with toilet paper shoved inside of my nose, I got the feeling that something was watching me again. A tingling sensation at the base of my neck that slowly spread to the bottom of my spine. 
Turning around to check the cabinet under my sink I caught my reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly I had gotten some color when out with Dylan, which made me smile.
But my reflection didn't smile back at me.
Instead it casually pulled off the long sleeved shirt that I was wearing, exposing my too pale and thinned body, then traced it's fingers along the length of my arm. A cold chill took over my body as I fought with myself to determine if I actual was seeing this or, more importantly, if I was feeling it. Not a moment later, my reflection reached down and gripped a razor from the side of the sink, without breaking eye contact or flinching, then began to trace slender lines into its arm. 
Pain began shooting through my arm as I noticed that the rows were appearing on my arm. A wave of nausea overcame me as thick blood began to stream down my arm, which was followed by a familiar burning feeling. Panic dominated the pain as I scrambled to grab the closest towel and attempt to stop the blood, this isn't how I wanted to die. I didn't want to die at all, not here, not alone, not now. 
Glancing up at my reflection I saw that she was smiling now, down at me and her work. The smile infested with rows of sharpened teeth, the scent of iron, were the last things I remember before blacking out of the cold tile floor. Again.