Avery's head was leaned against the padded wall of the asylum she was residing at. Her hair was wild and long, knotty and unkempt; her lips were chapped; dark circles under eyes that looked dead. She breathed. And that's all she did. For years she was safe, secluded in her room after the tragedy she witnessed. For years she didn't speak a word. She told no one of what she saw, told no one of her nightmares that plagued her as a child, or the legend of the aitu. When she was recommended that she was to go to an asylum for help, she left without complaint.
So there she sat. Alone. Just breathing.
Until she heard a grunt from outside her door. Her head popped up first. Then her body stiffened, leaning in just a bit to hear.
It whistled.
YOU ARE READING
Before Your Eyes
ParanormalEver since the last summer Avery spent at her grandmother's house when she was a child, she's been haunted by nightmares that shake her to the very core. Not remembering how or why she's getting these threatening nightmares that look more like memor...
