Who goes there?Mature

Who goes there?


The rest of the night I lay on my bed, trying to remember who I really was. Who were my parents and what magic evolved around me.

The wind whistled past my room, I shivered, this was a strange night. It seemed the spirits knew my aunt was gone. They seemed to know that she was the only one that truely believed me. Tears started to trickle down my already soaked cheeks, trying to reach any parts that weren’t already wet and sticky.

“I hate my life” I cried, burying my soft face into my hard, itchy pillow. “I hate it!”

Shimmer, shimmer


Shimmer, shimmer

A white fuzzy, image broke it’s why through the barriers of mortals.

It’s face was white, and it had no clothes just a white substance forming.

A retching feeling flung it self into my stomach I felt like  I wanted to be sick there and then, but I fought the erg.

“Who, who, are you?”

The shimmering form didn’t reply, It shimmered more, it seemed it wanted to tell me something but I didn’t know what.

“Who   are    you” I asked more clearly.

The image flung its self at me, I screamed, just before it shattered into me, it whispered,

“Feel us”


When I woke up, all I remembered was the strange figure, or spirit that had shimmered in front of me. But when I really tried to remember, I gasped, what did the spirit mean, “Feel us” what was that supposed to mean?

This night did not stop surprising me did it.

When I finally got to sleep, the dream I had just made things worse.

The fear engulfed me like a storm ragging towards you. Screaming from the pain of it, made my ears bleed inside. Spirits swam around me like a snow falling. It was so beautiful, but not to be, their faces were fear stricken, and blood covered there white ghostly faces, that were once so pale.

Screams pierced the night air, darkness covered what had been, and pain covered the air, like toxic gas. I couldn’t breathe, every gasp was a torment, a spirit whispered in the air, “please help us. You feel our pain, our fear, our forever hopelessness, please help us” the whisper was a pleading cry, to me.

A burst of light lit the sky, blinding my eyes like the sun, but this light was not friendly and full happiness, this was white and stormy, like a lightning strike, the spirits shrieked and cried. I started to fall, screaming at the top of my voice.

I flung my bed covers off, sweat beading my forehead, my hands sticky.

What did that dream mean, was it real, it couldn’t, but something in my gut, knew it was.


The End

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