The next morning I woke up with a killer headache, although it was after eight in the morning I felt like I hadn't slept in days. "Wait, how did I get to bed? I don't remember.." As I was trying to remember how I got here, the memories of last night come rushing back, my confusion quickly melts away as images of a faceless monster flash through my mind.
I look around the room, half expecting it to come rushing through the wall and attack me when suddenly the door flings open, not daring to even glimpse in that direction I shoved the covers over my head as the sound of heavy footsteps make their way around the room and come to a stop right next to my bed.
With my heart in my throat the covers were yanked off, eyes still closed I start kicking and screaming. Two large hands grip my shoulders which only makes me scream louder and fight harder. "Get off me! Get off me! Get off me! GET! OFF! ME!" A pair of strong arms lock my arms behind my back and hold me in place.
"Kayla relax! Jesus, calm down! It's just me!" When I recognise the voice screaming back at me, I stop fighting and his grip on my arms loosen a little. I slump against his body, letting him support my weight while I catch my breath and try to calm my nerves.
After my heart rate returns to normal, I look up at him, his eyes are wide and his face is pulled into an expression of concern. "What happened?" I ask in a soft voice that sounds nothing like my own. "You were cleaning up the lounge area, when I walked back in you were on the floor holding your head. There was a little blood but you don't need stitches. Just take it easy today, I'm sure you'll be fine by tomorrow." "I saw something, Mark. I was putting up the mirror and when I looked behind me there was this thing standing right by the wall.
It had no face, just skin, if you can call it that. The rest if it was just this dark cloud of smoke. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I just ...just" and I start sobbing, holding onto his grey cotton shirt for dear life as he gently strokes my hair. Resting his chin on my head he says, "I know it seems very real to you, but you hit your head pretty hard, my love. Maybe it was just a really bad nightmare?"
I lay there with my head on his chest, contemplating the possibility that the shadow creature was all just a bad dream, a mere figment of my imagination. Maybe the move was putting a little strain on me, unknowingly stressing me out somehow. Yes, that must be it, it was just a bad dream due to an overactive imagination and stress. Maybe I "saw" the shadow creature right after I bumped my head.
Feeling a little lighter, I wipe my tear stained cheeks and look up at Mark. "You're right, I have been feeling a bit off since we packed up and left the city, I guess it'll take some getting used to all of this. I just can't get over how real it all seemed." "Well let's get your mind off of it. You want some coffee?" I look up at him and smile. "That'd be great, babe. I'll be down in a sec, I just want to jump in the shower quick and I'll be right down."
He gives me a quick kiss on the forehead and leaves the room. I walk across the little passage into the bathroom. After dumping my clothes in the wash basket, I turn on the water and step in, letting the hot water fall over my face and body until my muscles start to relax.
The next few days were uneventful, everything was actually pretty great, except I didn't get the job at the local bar, but as each day passed, I was slowly becoming more certain that the creature I saw was just a vivid nightmare. I sigh as I look at the last few boxes in our room, moving is tough! It's even tougher when you have to do most of it alone. Mark had to leave for a few days, he has an exhibition coming up in the city. He tried pushing me to go with him but I don't want to leave the house empty, in case one of the neighborhood kids broke in or decorated our newly painted walls with spray paint again.
After unpacking the last of our boxes I pour myself a glass of wine and stand at the kitchen window, looking out at our somewhat neat garden. Admiring the gorgeous oak tree and sipping on a glass of sweet red, I notice something sticking out of the bushes right at the back of the garden. I squint, trying to make out what it is when my phone rings, I was so busy studying the unknown object in our yard that the sound of my beeping ringtone in a house so quiet made me jump and knock over my wine glass, spilling red liquid all over the counters and onto the floor.
"Shit! Well that's just great." I grab a kitchen towel from the bottom drawer and hit the answer button. With my shoulder keeping the phone pressed up against my ear, I lean down and begin wiping up the spill. "Kayla! How are you? How's the new place?" I smile at hearing my best friends bright and cheery voice. Leaving the kitchen towel on the floor to soak up the wine I stand up and lean on the counter top.
"It's amazing, really beautiful. The history behind this little town is so interesting."
"I'm so glad you love it. See? I told you it'd be perfect." In a deep voice she says, "And the best friend of the year award goes tooooo...."
"Hello? I said .. goes tooooo!"
"Oh right.. Megan Moore!"
"That was a little slow, but I'll take it. Hey, I saw a poster at the bar today, are you guys going to be in town for the big exhibition?"
"Mark will. He left this afternoon actually. We put in our notice at the old apartment so we still have a month before they lease it out again. He'll be crashing there for a few days."
"That's great! I'm sure his paintings will sell like crazy, he's really good at what he does. Anyway, I gotta go. My shift starts in five minutes, I'll call you later okay? Love you, bye!"
"Love you too." There's a beep and the line goes dead. Suddenly the house feels so empty. I pick up my phone and dial Mark's number but it goes straight to voicemail. Idiot probably forgot to charge his phone I think while rolling my eyes, he's terrible with that thing. I put my phone down, finish tidying up the spill and make my way upstairs for some much needed rest.
Before I get to my bedroom I notice the door to the nursery is open. We haven't changed it because, who knows? Maybe we'll have our own little one soon enough. Looking around the cute little room I see the shoe Mark was holding is laying oon the floor next to the cupboard. I walk over to pick it up when something small under the rocking chair catches my eye. I crouch down and pick up a little purple notebook.
I open it up and on the front page, I see the the words "Leah's Diary" written in neat cursive. Curiosity gets the best of me as I turn the page to the first entry.
08 July 1977
Dear Diary,
Today wasn't a good day. Mom got home drunk again, she forgot to bring supper but I managed to find a slice of bread in the cupboard from a couple weeks ago. The kids at school keep making fun of me, saying I'm poor because the school nurse brings me lunch every day, it's the only real food I get to eat in a day. Since Peggy and my step father moved out, Mom hasn't cooked or cleaned nevermind make me lunch.
Peggy lives at her dads house now, from the day they left Mom's been drinking every night, bringing 'friends' over who end up arriving after ten and leaving shortly after midnight.
I think Peggy moving is probably a good thing, I'm glad my little sister is getting good meals and lots of love, she's too little to live in a house like this with a mother like ours. Still, I spend my evenings sitting in her room and crying. I miss her so much but at least I'll see her this weekend. I can't believe she's almost three years old!
When Mom gets home at night I try telling her about the people I see in my room, but she always tells me I'm making it up and sends me to my room. Joey said his grandfather tells him a lot about ghosts, he's bringing a ouija board here tomorrow after school so we can speak to whatever it is in the house and ask them to leave. Hopefully that works and I can finally get a good nights sleep.
~Leah
