Drenched in sweat, I toss and turn, trapped in yet another nightmare. This one seems different to the others though. Standing in a meadow, the only sound to be heard is one I don't recognize at all. I tilt my head and strain my ears, trying to figure out where that soft hummimg sound is coming from. I whip my head to the side as soon as I hear a loud breathing sound to my left.
I listen carefully as it changes from being almost inaudible, to a steady buzz. All to quickly, the buzz changes to loud, thunderous bangs as dark clouds begin taking over the sky above, frightening me into waking up.
Aarg, what the? Hey, it's still dark outside! Who in their right mind would be knocking on my door at this hour? I pick the phone up, and peeking with one eye, see that it's 2am. I groan and sit up, wiping my eyes.
As I switch the light on, the knocking becomes louder and more frantic. Whoever's there sure is impatient.
"Hold your horses! I'm coming, God!" Throwing off the blankets I wrap a thin gown around my body, shove my feet into some thick socks and warily make my way downstairs, who could it be? Maybe one of the ghosts? Jillian?
No, surely she wouldn't be here at this time and the spirits don't really do stuff like that, pulling my hair or waking me up with screaming yes, knocking on my door? Not so much, maybe then I wouldn't be terrified of sleeping in my own home. Maybe it's Mark! What am I saying? Of course it's Mark! He drove all the way here to protect me when he saw the scratches on his phone, he must be so worried.
My steps quicken as I pass the nursery without glancing inside, I know I closed every door in the house before bed, but I choose to ignore the fact that all of them are open again and hurry down the stairs to the knocking, wait a second. Mark has a key, why would he knock? I stop as soon as I get to the bottom of the stairs.
Maybe I should call out? No, if it is someone dodgy I don't really want them to know there's a woman home alone. I wish I could see who it is though, it's definitely a man, and I definitely don't recognize his voice. Hmm, if I'm super quiet I'm sure I can sneak to the living room and peep through the window in the lounge to see who's here.
I tip-toe to the living room window, ignoring the persistent knocking. Pulling back the thin white netting, I see a black van in the driveway. I open the curtain a little more to see if I'll be able to catch a glimpse of whoever is standing on the veranda, but as I do I hear a males voice call out to me.
"I see you there, Miss! We're from the SAPS, Open the door so we can have a word, please. I know it's late, but we need to speak to you about a man called Mark Vosloo." They're here about Mark? Oh my God, okay don't jump to conclusions. I truly hope he hasn't ended up in jail for fighting again, Megan said he and some friends were at the bar and he hasn't been answering my messages, oh no. I have a bad feeling about this.
Please don't be in jail, please don't be in jail, I repeat in my head over and over as I rush to the door and undo all the locks. Swinging it widely I step aside, allowing the two officers to step inside. Both of them take their hat off and give me a small, kind smile as they step past me and into the living room. I close the door and follow them in, eyeing them suspiciously.
"Once again, we apologize for disturbing you this late at night, but we have some important news that couldn't wait. What did you say your name is, Miss?" "I didn't, but it's Macaela, Macaela Becker." "Right, Miss Becker, Does a Mr. Vosloo live here?" "Yes, why? Is everything alright?" "I'm afraid there's been an accident."
Oh no. no no no! It can't be, "An accident? What type of accident? Where is he?" "He was in a car accident a fee hours ago, he and a young female. We contacted her family but couldn't find record of any living relatives. The only thing about him we could find out from the females parents is that their daughter mentioned he and his girlfriend, had recently moved to this address." The question I need to ask is on the tip of my tongue, it's answer will either break me or let me breathe again.
I don't want to know, because I have a feeling I already know the answer, and judging by the look of pure sadness and sympathy in his eyes, he knows I need to ask, I just have to. So with my heart in my throat I open my mouth and force the first few words out in a hushed tone "Is he.." but he doesn't let me finish, almost immediately he lowers his head and says "I'm sorry."
That's the moment my knees buckle and I drop to the floor clutching my stomach, suddenly feeling dizzy and out of breath, all I can do is scream and cry. I'm not one hundred percent sure what happened after that. The rest of that night was pretty much blank, I had to go and identify his body, It was definitely him, his body lay at awkward angles under the sheet.
I didn't want to see his whole body or face so they cut a hole out of the corner part of the sheet covering his arm, it revealed a bruised and swollen arm covered in tribal tattoos. The reason I know for sure it was him was because right in between two dark lines at the bottom of his arm near his wrist, was my name printed in large, bold letters.
The weeks following that night passed in a blur of phone calls, flowers, unwanted visits as well as piles and piles of lasagna, no seriously! What is it about death that makes people want to give you shit loads of food? I only have so much freezer space you know! Besides, it's only me now.
You know how they say when someone close to you dies, sometimes you can physically feel the pain? Well I get that now. It literally feels as if someone has trapped a knife inside the depths of your heart, and you know that it'll always be there, shuddering painfully with every reminder of him, every "I'm so sorry.", "At least he's with his parents now." and "They say it must have happened so quickly, at least he passed painlessly."
But you know what the worst part is? The fact that we made plans for the future, he was supposed to be my husband, the father of our children. Would that have even happened ? Considering who was in the car with him when he wrapped it around a tree, I can't say for certain."
To say I was confused as hell to find out from Vicky Thompson that the reason Megan and Mark were in the car together is because they were having an affair. Oh yeah, you heard right, Megan told Vicky that she went to my old apartment to see Mark as soon as he got into town, Megan had been speaking about him for a couple weeks, Vicky thought it was a little weird but never suspected they were actually doing anything other than texting, she was under the impression that I knew they were hanging out at the apartment as friends, which is absolute bullshit!
Anyway, Vicky drove Megan to the apartment after work the day before they died, she was doing Megan a favor. She said she waited in the car for twenty minutes before marching upstairs and walking in on the two of them. Tangled together. Naked. On the couch.
She lost it and told them they had to tell me, or she would. After she left the apartment, Megan texted Vicky and said her and Mark were going to come see me and tell me together, said she would explain everything and that it was just a huge mistake.
I know. The whole time I was dealing with crazy ghosts in my house smd finding a job, he was banging my friend. Oh, did I mention the poster they showed me advertising the exhibition was fake? Well, it wasn't fake, but it got canceled two weeks before he left and they notified all the people who were having their work put on display.
After the funeral I put all my efforts into my job. Staying after hours to make sure all the paperwork was always up to date, opening up every morning and closing every night. I took every opportunity to get out of the house and away from thoughts of Mark's body, Mark and Megan together, all the thoughts that silent loneliness and a haunted house can bring on. Since Mark...since that day, the activity in the house has increased dramatically.
Six months later and I still follow the same routine but I'm slowly starting to feel a little bit like myself again, even though Jillian and I have had numerous people come in and attempt to cleanse the house, it only seems to push them off even more. The only good that came from all those visits is that we now know that there are four spirits in my home. One is the little girl who's diary I haven't read in a while, the other two are the old people who died here and the fourth, nobody knows.
Everyone seems to think that the shadow creature doesn't seem to be human in any way, they don't think it ever was. We know it's powerful and aggressive, whenever it has a chance it scratches, bruises and bites me. It's face changes and morphs into something different each time, always even more horrific and terrifying than the last. I hear it whisper to me, telling me that death is calling. It's pulled my duvet off, held me down and pushed me down the stairs.
I can't handle it anymore, so I asked Jillian to contact yet another priest and ask him to come bless the house, hopefully this time, itwill help. She says that he's confident that he will be able to rid the house of all negative activity. So did the others though. This one just had to work, I don't know what else to do. I can't afford to move, and anyway I've grown so fond of this little place I don't want to leave, that thing should be the one to leave!
Pacing up and down the living room with both hands behind my back, I look at the clock for the millionth time. Just after five I finally hear the crunch of tyres on the gravel outside. "Okay asshole, it's time for you to go, just leave me alone!" I whisper looking up at the wooden ceiling, I know it's somewhere. Listening, watching everything I do.
As I walk to the front door I hear a sinister laugh from upstairs, a voice so deep and inhuman echoes throughout the house and I know exactly what it belongs to. I take a deep breath and try to ignore the feeling of eyes on my neck as icy goosebumps begin to form and the room gets colder.
I force a huge, friendly grin on my face and swing the door open. This time it'll work, it has to. I've suffered for what feels like an eternity it's time for me to take my life back! "Hello, hello. It's so nice of you to come, would you like some tea? Coffee?" Stepping aside, I let Jillian and the confident looking priest walk in, and after saying a quick prayer I close the door and follow them into the lounge.
Not even five seconds after I walk into the lounge, a woman's blood-curdling scream rings throughout the house. I place my hands over my ears and wait for it to stop, with an abrupt choking sound it finally comes to an end. I think it came from upstairs, where Leah and her mother were both drowned in the bathroom. Clearly the priest was thinking the same, only unlike most of the others he ran straight up the stairs towards the noise instead of straight out the door.
Hmm, maybe he really will be able to do it. I look at Jillian who shakes her head and walks out the door to wait in the car as usual. "Good luck, dearie. You know where I am when you're finished in here, let me know what happens." "Thanks again for all your help." She smiles just as another loud scream comes from upstairs, except this time it's clearly the priest's. 437Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpzKNipLe93
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