Like Ghosts In The Snow

I walked across the library, trying to find the door so that I could escape. I was breathing so heavily, all of this was happening at once and I felt as if I were about to have a panic attack. I ran back over to where I thought the door handle might be and reached out for it in the complete darkness.

I found the door handle and began to try and yank it open, trying to use all of my strength to get it open. Nothing would work. I sighed and slid down the door, and sat on the floor with my legs crossed. That’s when I heard a sound, a sort of jingling sound. I looked up to see the door handle moving erratically. I jumped up and away from the door as the door handle kept moving, trying to get the door open.

“H-hello?” I chocked out. “Is there anybody here?” there came no answer, just some shuffling of the books and a bunch of footsteps.

I swallowed hard and turned my attention back toward the door knob. It had stopped moving and everything was silent for another moment. I grabbed the handle once more and tried to open it was so much more force. But, once again it wouldn’t budge.

I stopped dead in my tracks when this time, I heard something different. I heard laughter. It was a slight chuckle, but I could hear it and it sounded so venomous, so animalistic. I was frightened so much more now. I was shaking and I could hardly breathe anymore.

“H-hello?” I called out again, waiting anxiously for a reply. But, instead I heard nothing more than more laughter and now hurried footsteps. A laughter that was filled with so much darkness, a murderous type of laughter that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

I felt tears begin to prickle at the corner of my eyes as the laughter now bellowed off of the walls, getting louder and louder at every passing second. I covered my ears, trying to block out all of the laughter that was surrounding me. But what I heard next I couldn’t block out. It was an ear piercing, blood curdling scream that was so loud and so pain filled that I could almost feel the pain.

The voice wailed out in pain as the light then began to flicker on and off, on and off. The scream just became louder and louder with every second, as did the venomous laughter. I could just hear the pain and sorrow drip off from the scream it had made. I could feel its pain radiating off of my body, the pain of death.

The lights turned off as I heard books being bashed onto the floor, papers rustling around and loud thumps as the hard covered books smashed onto the floor. I heard a small yelp. Then I thought that it was going to be quiet. I thought that it had all stopped. The books were kept in place, the laughter had stopped. But, there was still that same eerie feeling that I had been feeling.

I heard crying. I heard the quiet sobs begin at the corner of the library. I could tell it was near to me, the noise so close. I went as far away from the noise I could, crawling into the opposite corner. I picked up my knees to my chest and wept. I cried, not only because I was petrified, I cried out of pity. The deep, deep sadness of its cries was almost unbearable.

This was all too real, was I dreaming? Was this just some entire cruel joke just to get a scare out of me? The lights flickered back on again and what I had seen next shocked me. There was blood. Blood covered the walls and ceiling, which all met in a pool on the floor. I could do anything but stare at it in shock. There was so much blood. I gagged at the smell, the smell of a rotting corpse.

The library was a mess. Every single thing was trashed. Books were thrown about, pages torn from the hinges, the blood. It all looked like a murder scene. There was so much blood. I closed my eyes, not being able to look at it any longer. Why did we have to move here?

“Help.” Came a soft whisper from the corner of the room. My eyes opened wide, almost popping out of my skull. I looked around the room with tear filled eyes. Did I really just hear that?

I shuffled my way back against the wall. I tried to hide as I heard the voice again. The same pain filled ‘help’. I did nothing but cower against the wall. I couldn’t do anything.

I closed my eyes and let all of the tears flow. I felt horrible. I felt so bad about everything. I wanted to help this person; I wanted to be there for this person. Hearing its pleas and begs made me want to find them, help them.

“Please, help me.” The voice came again. This time, I could tell that it was a boy, and a young boy at that. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. I opened my eyes and wiped back my tears.

“I want to help you!” I called out. “I want to help you, but I can’t see you. I have no idea where you are!” I called to him, getting up the courage to actually say something.

The crying subdued and I could hear the low shallow breathing of a person. But, I knew none of my family was there, so there had to be someone different. Maybe someone had broken in or something, but that didn’t explain anything. How come I couldn’t see them?

“W-who is it? Who are you? I- I can’t see you! Help me! Try and help me! I- I’m bleeding… I’m bleeding so much. It hurts! It hurts so much!” The boy screamed out in agony.

I stood up and walked my way over to where the noises were coming from. There was no way that this was happening. There was no way that any of this was happening right now.
“I’m Gerard, I can’t see you anywhere. Where are you at?” I called out, trying to be as calm as I could. I heard his silent whimpers again before he actually spoke up.

“I-I’m over in the corner, the one by the door.” He whispered brokenly to me. I walked as fast I could over to the corner. There was nothing there.

“I don’t see you, you’re not here.” I told him as I felt the tears come alone again.
“Save me.” Was the last thing that I heard from him. The erratic breathing had stopped all together. The room fell deathly silent. I was once again, alone.

I fell to the floor and cried. I was a failure, I couldn’t save him, and now he was dead. I was a failure, just like everyone had been telling me. I failed him.

I fell asleep, huddled into a ball on the floor, right by the corner. I dreamt of the mystery boy that I had heard being murdered. I dreamt that I had actually saved him and that he had thanked me. I dreamt that he was alive and well, and that he had me to thank for it all.

By the time I woke up, my family was already home. I heard my father shouting from the front door of the house, telling me to get my lazy ass down there and start cooking some dinner. I sighed and stood up and looked about the library. There was nothing wrong, not a thing out of place. There was no more blood, no more books thrown around. I reached down for the door knob and twisted it. The door came open with no hassle.

All of this confused me. I knew that all of this was real. I knew that I hadn’t dreamt it up. It was all so too real to be just a dream. It was real, not a dream real. I could never get those screams out of my head, those pained screams and cries for help. It was so haunting.

I walked out into the hall way and looked both ways, everything seemed so normal. Like that thing that just happened not even a few hours ago didn’t really happen. I walked down the stairs and walked back over to the kitchen. I saw my dad at the table, sitting there with his arms folded across his chest.

“Well, well, well, where have we been then? You weren’t in your bedroom. I kind of figured that I didn’t have to flag you down to actually be able to eat something. I want you to make my food right now and you better be quick about it. This better not happen again.” My father yelled at me. I nodded my head.

“I was in the library sir, I fell asleep while reading a book, sorry.” I told him as I walked my way over into the kitchen.

I went over to the cupboard and grabbed a box of pasta out. I went back over to the stove and turned on the stove. I went and grabbed out a pan. I saw my father walk into the kitchen. He walked over to the stove where I was at and glared at me.

“I don’t want you going around and snooping around this house you hear me? I don’t want you to ever go into that library again. I want you to stay out of there.” He seethed at me. I nodded my head quickly. That’s when he raised his hand and smacked me right across the face.

“That is for snooping around where you don’t need to be. Now, hurry up and get this dinner done!” he yelled as he smacked the pot off of the stove top. It landed on the floor with a loud crash and the steaming hot water flew out all around.

“Clean up this mess.” He spat at me before walking back out of the kitchen.

I raised my hand and felt my cheek. He hit me hard this time. My cheek stung as I lightly grazed it. I felt some tears begin to fall as I walked over to the drawer and grabbed out a rag. I got down on all fours and began to clean.

I guess that things could be worse. I hadn’t cared much about what had just happened with my father. He was always so abusive and distraught. I was used to it, it seemed normal. I cleaned up the mess and began to cook again. I couldn’t help but cry as I watched the water begin to bubble. Someone save me.