Short Stories

Who's in the Video?

Why am I doing this?

I sigh, lifting up boxes. Of course, I get stuck cleaning the attic. It hasn't been touched in years. Only time it is opened is when we are putting more stuff in.

I finish sorting all the stuff into piles when I find a box marked home videos. I open it up and see tapes upon tapes of home videos. I pick up one that is labeled childhood.

I crawl over to the old tv and vcr that had been stored up there. I take the book of home videos downstairs, and carry down the tv. I carry them into the living room and plug them in.

Mom shouldn't mind.

I pop in the first video and start watching. At first, I see little me. Aw, I'm so cute! I watch as I run over to the player to try and scare my sister. She's so little, she looks so cute. But for some reason, the moment I see here I get a chill down my spine. Something isn't right, but I don't know what. I ignore the feeling and keep watching.

I watch as it shows us running through the sprinkler, and then trying to hug our mom. I still feel uneasy, but I don't know why. The video then shows me and my sister holding our little brother when he was born. He used to be so cute.

The video stops and I get up to make some popcorn. I walk into the kitchen and put and bag into the microwave. As I walk back to the living time, I hear someone whisper, "Rachael." I turn and look, but no one is there. I'm getting scared, because no one is home. But, I try to ignore it and go back to watching movies.

I watch as we slowly grow up, and watch us go to the first day of school. I get up to get water and hear the voice again. "Rachael," it calls out. "Rachael, Rachael, Rachael."

I run back into the living room and bury myself in blankets, turning the volume up to block out the voice.

"Rachael," I hear it call. "Rachael."

"No, stop, go away!" I yell.

I sit in silence as I hear the door open.

"Mom?" I call out.

"Rachael, I told you to clean the attic. What are you doing?" She asks.

"Just watching some home videos of me and my siblings," I respond, my voice shaking.

My mom's purse drops to the floor as she runs towards me. She turns on the tv, watching for a bit and pauses it. She slowly turns toward me.

"Rachael," she said in a shaky voice," You don't have any siblings."

The girl on the video laughs as we sit in silence.