Thriller Stories Collection

Silly Little Hobby

It was visiting day. I had to wake up early to see her.

It has been ten years since that incident. I wanted to keep everything stored in the darkest and dreadest area in my Hippocampus, where I will never recall any of it. Natheless, the shadows of history never failed to pester me. The darkness, the laughter, and the fear kept haunting my inner being, making me repeat over and over again the same traumatic experience.

As I lazily struggled to get out of bed, I felt a heavy pressure that kept pulling me back away from going. I sighed, do I honestly have a choice?

A four inch heel black ankle boot, a brown skirt combined with a black long sleeve turtleneck, and a Prussian blue trench coat was what I deemed fit for the occassion. I don't want her to see colors - she doesn't deserve the see a rainbow after she took all the colors in my life.

It was a two hour drive wasted on her. For seven years, her attorney kept calling me annually to remind me of visiting day. Only now have I gathered enough courage to face my greatest fear, and so I agreed.

I went inside and greeted all the staff and workers. They were very kind, though it was axiomatic that they were troubled of some sort. The pale faces, the dark eyebags, and the distressing movements they all acted.

"Hi, welcome to Saint Caroline. How may I help you?" asked by the old woman in the reception. She was probably in her late 50s already.

"Hi my name is Amelia. I'm here to visit Harmony Collins."

She slowly typed in her old rustic computer.

"Ah, that woman." I heard her murmur, "She's on the 4th floor, left wing, fifth door. What's your relationship with her by the way?"

"She's my mother," I said in a low voice. I waved the old lady good bye.

I took my time paving through the hallways of the institute. I wasn't in a hurry to see her. As I brushed through the gloom, I reminisced how it all began.

It was on the night of my 15th birthday when I heard noises under the carpet. I placed my ear just above the large bright red furry carpet in the middle of the living room.

Someone was hammering, I thought. Or was it scratching?

The curiousity within me ate me whole, but the fear knowing that someone -- or something might be living below us was way superiour than the former.

I ran towards my room, shrugged off the intense fear and tried to sleep.

The next day, I completely forgot what just happened the night before.

"Mama?" I called out. But she wasn't there.

"Mama?" I cried a little louder. I heard a creak down below.

I went out of our white house completely made of wood. The weather wasn't nice at all. It was cold, the sun was sleeping even if it's already time to wake up. The fifteen year old me thought it was gonna be the end of the world - because it looked exactly like those kind of eerie feelings in movies.

"Yes, Amelia?" answered mama. She came from the backyard, which got me wondering. We didn't have anything in the backyard. Except of course the cemetery just a few minutes walk away from our home.

"What were you doing back there?" I ignorantly asked.

"Nothing. I'm hungry, are you?" she asked, using the tone I've always loved. The tone of the sweetness like potato.

The day went by, I helped mama with the household chores. I didn't have school that day so I stayed indoors. I didn't have any friends and I think mama doesn't have any too. Maybe that's why she keeps spending time with me.