Part 1
I once knew this beautiful little girl. She lived in the house right next to mine. Every morning she’d be playing out in the yard, often she would smile to me as I passed. She was a perfect rose among the green grass, her toys scattered around her. Her parents were delightful people; they had so much love for their child that she seemed to glow with it. Her eyes would twinkle when she giggled as she said hello, sometimes with a curtsey while sometimes with a wave. Everyday without failing she’d be the first person I met when I walked out my door and her smile would make my whole day seem better.
It all changed one day when I woke to sounds of sirens and the flashing lights. The news report said a burglar got in; the parents resisted but ended up getting shot. The burglar died as well though, tripped on a toy and fell down the stairs, broke his neck. Tragic, but that’s life for you. I never saw the girl again. They said she went to live with her aunt. I miss her morning greetings, the day never felt the same without it.
The house was empty for a few years. Then a funny thing happened. One morning, on my way to work I heard a familiar giggle. Instinctively I looked back; the yard was dead, abandoned and empty. Ah, I need to lay off the coffee. I quickly dismissed it as the product of too much caffeine and too little sleep. I threw it out of my mind. Or at least I thought I did. Throughout the day something was gnawing at the back of my head, like an itch I couldn’t scratch. It was a long and busy day so I didn’t pay much attention to it. Not until I was walking back home. It was there when I heard that distinctive giggle again. This time I’m sure I heard it. It was getting late, and my porch light wasn’t on. It was chilly so I went straight inside my house. From my kitchen window I could see the old house. And there from the second story window, right where her room used to be, she stood; her face sullen, her eyes sunken. She was staring at the yard, at the spot she used to sit and play. I could barely make out tears when suddenly she turned, and looked straight at me.
I stumbled back from surprise. I must’ve tripped on something, because I woke up on my bed. The back of my head hurts like hell, and it’s dark in my room. Odd. I turned my lamp on and realize that I wasn’t in my bed at all… I was in a girl’s room; it’s faded pink walls seeming strangely familiar. From the corner of my eye I saw something move. It was at the darkest corner of the room, beside the window. Despite my fears I stood and walked over to see what it was. When I peeked through the window the horror of realization gripped me with its cold fingers. I was standing in her room, right at the spot where I saw her. And there, sitting in the yard, playing with knives and bones and other macabre things, sat the little girl, giggling to her as she wondered what to do with her new playmate.
To be continued.
I once knew this beautiful little girl. She lived in the house right next to mine. Every morning she’d be playing out in the yard, often she would smile to me as I passed. She was a perfect rose among the green grass, her toys scattered around her. Her parents were delightful people; they had so much love for their child that she seemed to glow with it. Her eyes would twinkle when she giggled as she said hello, sometimes with a curtsey while sometimes with a wave. Everyday without failing she’d be the first person I met when I walked out my door and her smile would make my whole day seem better.
It all changed one day when I woke to sounds of sirens and the flashing lights. The news report said a burglar got in; the parents resisted but ended up getting shot. The burglar died as well though, tripped on a toy and fell down the stairs, broke his neck. Tragic, but that’s life for you. I never saw the girl again. They said she went to live with her aunt. I miss her morning greetings, the day never felt the same without it.
The house was empty for a few years. Then a funny thing happened. One morning, on my way to work I heard a familiar giggle. Instinctively I looked back; the yard was dead, abandoned and empty. Ah, I need to lay off the coffee. I quickly dismissed it as the product of too much caffeine and too little sleep. I threw it out of my mind. Or at least I thought I did. Throughout the day something was gnawing at the back of my head, like an itch I couldn’t scratch. It was a long and busy day so I didn’t pay much attention to it. Not until I was walking back home. It was there when I heard that distinctive giggle again. This time I’m sure I heard it. It was getting late, and my porch light wasn’t on. It was chilly so I went straight inside my house. From my kitchen window I could see the old house. And there from the second story window, right where her room used to be, she stood; her face sullen, her eyes sunken. She was staring at the yard, at the spot she used to sit and play. I could barely make out tears when suddenly she turned, and looked straight at me.
I stumbled back from surprise. I must’ve tripped on something, because I woke up on my bed. The back of my head hurts like hell, and it’s dark in my room. Odd. I turned my lamp on and realize that I wasn’t in my bed at all… I was in a girl’s room; it’s faded pink walls seeming strangely familiar. From the corner of my eye I saw something move. It was at the darkest corner of the room, beside the window. Despite my fears I stood and walked over to see what it was. When I peeked through the window the horror of realization gripped me with its cold fingers. I was standing in her room, right at the spot where I saw her. And there, sitting in the yard, playing with knives and bones and other macabre things, sat the little girl, giggling to her as she wondered what to do with her new playmate.
To be continued.