Guests In Our Home

December 7, 2012 at 12:00 PM
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I love how my Grandfather is always around to keep me company. On days that my Mom isn’t around, Grandpa is always nearby to comfort me. I sit on his lap, tell him stories about my day, and I never feel like I’m alone. Although our house is never empty even when Mom leaves for work, and I sit with Grandpa and read stories while he enjoys his chair, we always have guests in every room of our house.

There’s Edna and Elma the twins my Grandfather is friends with, they’re always sitting together in the kitchen with a teapot between just the two of them. There is also Joseph the plumber who went to school with Dad. Often seated with him in his study as dad is hunched over his desk, with a grin on his face, always looking at their High school yearbook while Joseph keeps him company as old friends should. Unless Mom needs to use a spare chair, then Joseph just stands next to Dad as he looks at his yearbook.

Then we have our younger guests like Beth and Tomas, who are around my age. Often upstairs when they aren’t playing with me. However I don’t really care if Tomas stays up there with his Mom and Dad, he never talks to me, and always makes a stupid face at me when I try and play with him. But Beth is really nice, she has pretty blonde curls in her hair, wears pretty perfumes and makeup, and sometimes Mom buys new dresses for her to wear. I’m sure she likes those, because she always has a smile on her face, even when I accidentally asked Mom how she got the ugly scar on her back. I felt bad when Mom told me that she had gotten the scar when she came here and was separated from her parents, who Mom says were very bad people. So I guess that makes her like the sister I never had, but I just like playing games with her when I’m bored. But Mom often scolds me if I get Beth’s dresses dirty, or accidentally knock her down.

Tonight my Mom says we’ll be having another guest, and a new friend for me to play with! Hopefully his family can come too! But Mom says that it’s hard to get an entire family like Tomas’ to come and stay in our home. So before she leaves for work, she tells me she’ll be home by Midnight. She gives me a kiss on the cheek, packs up her tools, and tells me to go make some space in Beth’s room for the new boy to stay. It’s the last time I talk to Mom before she leaves for work, and I go upstairs to get the bedroom ready. It takes me awhile, and by the time I’m done I don’t want to play with Beth like I usually do. So I grab a storybook from Beth’s shelf, and go downstairs to the living room. As always Grandpa is there, sitting in his rocking chair, waiting for me to come sit in his lap and tell him how my day went.

So I climb up into his lap, and snuggle against him as I tell him about our new guest. But I notice something’s wrong. His head is limp to one side, and his eye’s are closed. So I hop off his lap, and go into the kitchen as fast as I can. I run past  Edna and Elma, and immediately go for the bottom drawer next to the silverware where we keep Grandfather’s emergency supplies. I go back into the living room, stopping at the doorway to remember my manners, and I say “Good evening” to Edna and Elma before I go back to Grandpa. Carrying the supplies in my arms, I drop them behind Grandpa’s chair and look up at his neck. “Grandpa, your stitches came out again! It’ll take me forever to fix your neck like last time!…hmph…if only Mom had sewn you shut with a machine and used beads to stuff you like she did to Beth, instead of that flimsy cotton. Then you wouldn’t be falling apart all the time!”.

But I’m not upset with him, it’s not his fault. Mommy was only learning when she first brought him over as a guest. We’d only just moved into the neighborhood, and she had wanted to make sure that we’d never have to be lonely ever again. But of course now our guests can sit straight and never fall over, and Mom says that someday she’ll be sitting next to Grandfather while I’m out bringing new guests to keep us company.

Credit To: SteewpidZombie

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My Haunting Past

December 7, 2012 at 12:00 AM
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I’ve always had trouble sleeping at night. Noises have disturbed me my whole life. I found out years ago that I have hypersensitive hearing, picking up all sorts of background noises. They couldn’t fix it; only recommend the obvious techniques to mask the problem. Not that I hadn’t tried these already. Ear muffs, listening to music and even things like meditation. None of it worked. In fact it seemed to make it worse. It made her more desperate.

I hear her most nights. No one else can. Why does she only come to me? There’s always the dread of lying there each night in the dark silence, anticipating when she will come, and when I will hear her again. She usually likes to wait until I’m drifting to sleep, so that I jump back to my senses in fright to the sound of her there.

Most of the time it begins with a faint crying. She tells me that she “wants to make it end.” I know she’s getting closer to getting me and some nights I can even feel her cold breath in my ear. I can sense when she is lying close beside me in the darkness staring at me, and sometimes she whispers things like “It’s only me,” right into my ear. She’s toying with me, like a cat does to a helpless insect before killing it. The thing is, I could never see her, but it slowly felt like she was becoming more real.

The doctor later informed me that I suffer from schizophrenia. I have been taking medication for a long time but it wasn’t really working. It just made me feel more helpless. It was difficult for a girl as young as me to deal with this. At least now I could accept that she wasn’t real. It was all in my head and there was nothing real to be afraid of. That was until last night…

Last night her presence felt more real than ever. I could hear her whisper, feel the air on my neck and even smell her breath, it was all too realistic to handle. I got so scared that I fell back into my old habit of running through the darkness of the house into my mother’s bed to sleep beside her where I felt safe. Now that I was older, I knew she was hoping I had grown out of this phase, although I had only stopped doing it because it made her sad, and I didn’t want her to be disappointed in me anymore. She was all I had. If I had the choice I would be in there beside her every night without fail.

I knew my mother had been awoken by me, probably more saddened that I had reverted to old ways when she thought the medication had been helping me. But it wasn’t helping; I had just lied all this time to keep her happy and let her sleep in peace. I curled up in bed beside her and began to sob quietly. My mum looked uncomfortable from the noise I had made, and began stirring under the sheets so I whispered into her ear… “It’s only me.” She sat up abruptly, looking anxious. In the darkness I saw her reach over for her cell phone and begin to dial a number. I noticed on the screen that she was calling the doctor.

“The voices I used to hear,” she said. “They’re back…”

Credit To: Jack

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