Lights Out

Untitled

Everyone told me to tell my story on here but frankly, seeing the title bar...I don't know how what I went through could be summed up in a single title. So, I left it alone. But what can't be left alone is what happened to me not even a week ago, I mean it was something truly horrible. I'm shaking still as I write this but I worry that if I don't warn people, someone else could get hurt.

I was visiting my grandma. She's been lonely ever since Grandad died so I go over once or twice a week. I'd go over more but it's hard with school and shit. Sorry...we don't say shit. Anyway, she was low on food so I offered to go shopping for her. She can't drive and I had some money left from my last paycheck. I figured the stores would be busy since it's a Saturday and the day before a major holiday so I told her I'd be back as soon as I could. I hoped she wouldn't need anything while I was away because my phone broke last weekend.

On my drive over I passed by a little house that had seen better days. I don't remember this house being there before, but it kind of looked like a motor home so maybe they just moved onto that plot of land. Either way, it seemed like whoever owned it didn't care about keeping it clean or maintaining the grass. Maybe it was an older person who couldn't do much on their own, like my grandma. I decided I'd stop and see if they need help; I'm here every week anyway and extra money sounded nice.

The stores weren't too horribly packed so I was able to get in and get out with some staples and all the ingredients for grandma's favorite stew. On my way back, I made good on my promise. But I knocked a few times on the door and no one answered it. I knocked one more time, louder and harder than the others, but when still no one came to the door I left. I thought about leaving a note about the yard work and my number but didn't think that would well received.

When I got back to the house, grandma was acting strange. The whole time I unloaded groceries she stared at me, holding the rosary she keeps around her neck. I wanted to ask her what was wrong but every time I moved toward her, she moved back, muttering under her breath. I gave up and just focused on cooking, the addictive smell wafting around the room. I set a bowl out for her, but she stayed in the living room while I ate. I sighed and put hers in the microwave, knowing she will be hungry later. I tried to kiss her goodbye but she shrunk in on herself and whimpered.

I wanted to cry on the way home, I was so confused why my grandma acted like I was some nasty stranger waiting to hurt her. But now I understand. I knocked four times on that door, four distinct different knocks. Whoever, whatever, lived inside knew I was out there and latched on like a hungry leech. I didn't feel it at first, but a couple days went by and suddenly I was lethargic and not interested in food, running fevers that would break and start back up in an hour. My mom took me to the doctor and he said it was either something viral or the flu; he gave me a script for top shelf flu meds and told me to get some rest.

It wasn't viral, at least not in the way he thought. The lethargy got worse to the point I couldn't get out of bed. In fact, that's where I'm writing this right now. Yesterday I started bleeding randomly from my nose, and the blood dripping down my face was the color of fresh asphalt laid out on the road. It was grainy and thick. It stopped after a minute and then the worst happened. I saw shadows attached to me, like my own shadow but darker and neatly outlined. They watched me from the tile floor and all I could feel was a chill down my spine. My nose bled again when I went to bed.

Now...well, I don't know. I don't know what I did, I don't know what I angered but these shadows won't leave me alone. As I type I can feel them hovering over me and suddenly...grandma was right. I'm some nasty stranger hellbent on hurting somebody, that's the kicker isn't it? Except she saw these things attached to me, she didn't see me. Because these things are out to kill me and I can feel it just as strongly as I felt that damn door under my knuckles. We don't say damn...but I'm going to die so I suppose mom won't care.

It's dim here in my room but I can feel them. I can feel them so close to my bed, just waiting for my halting breaths to stop. They want me and frankly, I'm going to let them have me. I can't keep fighting this anymore, it hurts too much. I just hoped someone would see this and know not to knock on that door. Do not knock on the creepy house's door, please. I wish I hadn't.

Well...I suppose it's time.