Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

It was a strange occurrence with which I had been faced. I am truly at a loss for words to explain the event at the moment. The only way in which I could describe it would be with arguably Edgar Allan Poe's most famous poem, The Raven:

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more'..."

I had been dozing off on my bed, lazily reading a book of poems I had found hidden deep amongst the many volumes. Perhaps it was this very thing that set off the rest of the events, what had detonated the experience. A horror of sorts lay in that book.

"[...] Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'...”

My one thought was that my brother was in need to borrow something from me. Perhaps it was some book he needed to bring to school or some cassette he wished to listen to. Either way, I didn't care much for it, trying to distract my current thoughts with the novel in my hands, ignoring the increased beating of my heart. Answering the door was the last resort, should it become ever more insistent, should the volume of the tapping increase.

"Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more...."

Setting aside the novel, marking the page with a bookmark that had been near at hand, I stood. I made my way quickly up the stairs, warning to whoever might have been on the other side that they had just disrupted my sleep, despite the fact that it was not true. I opened the door and stared down the hallway but it was completely barren of anything and anyone.

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more."

So tired was I that I called for that boy that had been lost to me, that fragile young man I had sent away. There was no answer, not that I was expecting any. Why would Frank have snuck back into my house, knocked and left? Why wouldn't he have waited for me to open my door? Making up my mind that it was either my brother playing tricks on me or my own weary mind, I closed the door, locking it and turning back into my bedroom.

"Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'..."

Still, as I walked back in, I could still hear that accursed knocking that had roused me from my novel in the first place. Crawling back onto my bed, I proceeded to inspect the small window over the same, thinking it must be some animal tapping there, some mouse or insect attempting to gain way into my bedroom. It could also be the wind, tapping some low-lying branch against the glass of the same. But when I opened it, there was nothing at all; there was only the darkness of the night outside. I closed this now as well, latching it securely, laying back down on my bed. It must be my imagination still; must be the side effects of watching too many horror movies.

But even as I lay down again, I could hear the gentle tapping. Angered by now and very much frightened, I roused myself from my position on my bed once again, walking over to the light switch in order to turn it on. I flicked it but instead of the glorious light I had expected to fill the room, there was only a continued darkness. Instead of giving up, I began flicking the switch frantically, staring into the dark where I was certain the light bulb was.

Not even a flicker, a spark, ignited in that worn out white bulb. Cursing under my breath, I proceed to the lamp in the corner of the room, searching it for the switch that would turn it on. Again, there was not even a single spark to illuminate the area. Still swearing, I walked over to my bed once again where the only light came from. This light was caused by the small table lamp there that I had turned on long ago to be able to see the words of the book I had plucked from my bookcase.

Thankfully, this light had not been extinguished as the others, brightly burning despite the fact that it was a low-watt bulb. Pleading with it to remain on while I searched for a lantern, I began digging through my bedside table. Despite my pleas, however, the light burned out just as my numb fingers grasped a flashlight. I wasted nary a moment before I flicked it on, the old battery allowing the bulb to ignite. Sighing in relief, I turned the ray towards the center of my room, scouring the area. For once I cursed the fact that I just so happened to have the basement as my habitation.

Cautiously, I began to wander the room, searching out the darkest corners for the source of the tapping that insisted on filling the silence. Fear was creeping up and down my spine, trailing its chilly fingers down the vertebrae. I cursed the horror movies I insisted on viewing for placing all these horrid images in my mind. Venturing slowly, I made sure to check every place I could reach with the feeble light from the flashlight in my hand but found nothing out of the ordinary. Frustrated, with no traces of sleepiness embedded into my mind any longer, I stalked back to my bed. If nothing, I could just curl under the sheets until I fell unconscious from exhaustion.

Still cursing under my breath, I finally reached my mattress, using the light from the lantern in my hand to pick out the edge of the blankets. Crawling in, I turned off the light, keeping it tight in my hand in case I would need it later on. Just as I shut my eyes, however, there came the rapping again, louder than ever before. "Motherfucker," I swore, switching on the flashlight again, aiming it into the ink black before me. Nothing. Annoyed and trembling from fear, I kept the light aimed into the dark confines of my room, resisting the overwhelming urge to run and seek safety from Mikey or my parents.

I wasn't a child anymore to be running for comfort. Feeling discomfort from the left side of my body, I shifted, bringing the blankets up over my ears. Somehow that feels so much safer: to just curl under the sheets, covering up your eyes to not see the oppressing dark before you. It was always infinitely better than facing whatever was out there, than facing the dangerous unknown, the mysterious beyond. But it's never a solution because then comes the unexplained sounds that you just have to investigate, no matter how frightened you really are.

And the tapping resumed, closer now than ever before, as if the noise had shifted and moved towards my prone body. Out of damned curiosity, I peeked out from beneath the folds of the sheets towards the area where the sound seemed to be coming from. I pointed the flashlight tremulously at the spot but the only thing I found was a sudden shift of motion. Still swearing profoundly under my breath, I shifted back to the edge of my bed, pressing my back against the wall. It gave me a certain sense of security to feel something solid behind me, just to know that nothing could sneak up on me.

The ray from the flashlight shifted continuously, dancing on the empty wall I kept it pointed at. The tapping had stopped but there was a certain apprehensive unease hanging thick in the air still. Suddenly there was a hand on my mouth and another pinning me against the wall. A scream welled in my throat, muffled by the mass of bone, muscle and flesh held fast over my lips. This didn't seem to be a dream or a figment of imagination and that was truly the frightening part.

"I have something to tell you," a voice whispered hoarsely, closer to me than I had imagined it to be. The flashlight sputtered, light blinking rapidly before it too died out, plunging the entire room into complete darkness. "Don't speak; don't do anything or you'll regret it, got it?" I nodded, trembling from head to foot. "I'm going to take my hand away and if you do anything, I swear to you, it's going to go badly." I nodded again, hands gripping the sheets for dear life.

The hand was removed from my lips and though every instinct screamed at me to yell, I remained silent, heart thudding painfully in my chest. "Your Frankie is in trouble; he's not going to make it. They'll find him guilty and throw him in jail. They're going to take him away from you. Pack up because you're going to need to run away with him."

"I can't do that," I whispered hoarsely, somehow finding my voice in the midst of all this. In an instant, a fist collided with the side of my face, knocking me to my side.

"Don't fucking speak. Get out now because I assure you: both of your lives are going to end up in hell." The light from the flashlight sputtered back on as he finished speaking. As the hand was removed from my shoulder, the table lamp fizzed to life. "Don't you forget." And suddenly the room was bathed in the glow of all the lights I had tried to turn on and there was absolutely nothing before me.