Thursday, February 18, 2010

A Childhood Game Revisited

There was a knocking at my door this morning, but when I answered no one was there. I left it open and walked back to the kitchen, sat on the bar stool and waited. I opened a water bottle, took a drink, and waited some more. Fifteen minutes passed, twenty, and still no sign of life ventured forth.

I closed the door and stood next to the wall, my hand on the door knob. Hearing a soft cry, I released my hold. The door knob jiggled. I clutched it tightly waiting for the next test. It didn’t come. Nothing ever comes.
The voice I always hear drifted from the corner of my living room, out of the ancient radiator. I took my lighter out of my pocket and tapped it against the rusted metal, clink, clink, clink. Nothing was returned. Just who is this mysterious woman I’ve heard but never met?

I sat on the sofa and drank what was left of my water. I aimed at the trash can positioned perfectly next to my kitchen counter and shot. I’ve been practicing so long I never miss. The bottle stopped mid-air. It was held by some invisible barrier then dropped. I eyed it suspiciously. A loud crinkling noise made me jump. I looked back to the bottle and noticed it being compressed into itself.

The noise stopped. I cautiously picked up the empty bottle. I put it in the trash and turned around to retrieve another. There was a knock on my door again.

I was hallucinating. I know I was.

I called in sick to work, determined to discover who my knock-and-run culprit was. I sat on the sofa again and waited, knowing that it was only a matter of time before I heard something again.

Silence.

Hours and hours of silence.

I walk to the door, prepared to get the mail. I touch the handle.

Knock, knock, knock. Without hesitating I pull the door open. No one--I look down the hall in both directions, and still see no one. I close the door, my hand still holding the knob.

Clink, clink, clink, I hear on the old radiator.

“Who are you?” I ask to no one.

The door knob jiggles in my hand; I quickly pull the door open again. No visitors.

“What do you want?” I whisper out loud.

The answer: a wail from the radiator.

“Do you want me?” I ask, my voice shaking.

Silence.

I turn and walk to the bathroom. Closing the door, I turn on the light and stare at myself in the mirror. I splash water on my face then look at my reflection again. My heart races when I see a woman standing behind me. I turn and look over my shoulder, only the shower curtain. Returning to the mirror, I see a glass blade in her hand and blood covering her from head to toe.

Trembling, I whisper, “Oh, Bloody Mary! Why now?”

5 comments:

  1. I hope you learned your lesson to never speak to a mirror.

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  2. Like I told you before, the part where the bottle stops in mid-air really strikes me in this piece. There is some really great moments in this, the plaintive cry at the end being the least of them. Fantastic!

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  3. Great piece, I love stories based around urban legends, or are they legends durdumderdum

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  4. Fantastic! It's the only game I've never played for exactly this reason!!

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