The True Horror Began On Friday 13th

My first instinct was to grab a kitchen knife, which I did with a flourish. My second instinct was to hide and my third instinct was to see if a person had gotten in, or if they had gotten out. I swallowed the lump in my throat and stepped cautiously into the hallway, my shadow lying flat against the table. I shuffled forward, the crumb ridden kitchen knife posed in my right hand.

I looked up the stairs, dithering on the spot. I reminded myself why I had been afraid of the dark all those years ago. The stairs were pitch black; I couldn’t see anything apart from a few fallen shadows.

I turned on the landing light from down stairs, still not satisfied with the light that shadowed the stairs. What if they were hiding in one of the rooms? I walked back down the hall and picked up the phone, trying to remember Mikey’s number.

“0345228792…” I muttered, punching in the number before staring back upwards, my lip drawn into my mouth. The ringing seemed to last forever but luckily he picked up, “Hello, Mikey?”

“Uh… Yes? Who’s this?” he asked, sounding tired.

“It’s Ren,” I said quietly, trying not to alert anyone up stairs.

“Oh… Wad’ya want?” he asked.

“I think someones in the house?” I said, putting it more as a question, “My parents are in Chicago for the week and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I mumbled, gnawing at the skin on my thumb.

“Ring the police,” he questioned. I swallowed and stared at the stairs, I couldn't ring the police, what if it was just a cat? a cat that open doors.

“I don’t want to do that. Can’t you stay on the phone with me so I can go up stairs?” I asked pettily, knowing in the mood he was showing he’d rather shoot himself in the foot than to come check it out, “Please?”

“Fine,” he murmured.

I started treading up the stairs again, my breath quickened and heart rate plummeted. Mikey Way was doing no help what so ever, I think I could hear him turning on the shower, obviously not interested in what was happening. Each step I took my stomach dropped and fell to my knees.

“You found the ghost of Christmas past yet-“ he started, getting cut off when I dropped the phone.

I stopped and pressed myself up against the wall as my bedroom door opened from up stairs, I scrabbled to pick up the phone, afraid that Mikey’s voice on the other end might alert whoever was in my house.

“Ren? You there?”

“Shh!” I whispered, biting my bottom lip when I heard footsteps thudding down the hall towards the window. The sustainable creak of the old wood sounded and for a second I could hear the blustering wind from outside before the invader closed the window again, hopefully leaving my house, “There was some one!” I squeaked, “They just left! I heard them!”

“Who just left? Go check!” he probed, “Look, just… turn on all the lights alright? It was probably just some asshole,” he sighed. I tip toed around the up stairs, flicking on all the lights as I went, “Anything?”

“Nuh-uh,” I murmured, pushing my bedroom door open and turning on the light, peering into the cupboard and behind my door, “They didn’t take anything!” I said, “What the hell did they want?”

“Listen, the ass probably realised you were in the house and left. Are you sure they didn’t take anything? Or… I dunno leave something?” he asked, I shook my head.

“Not that I can see,” I mumbled, looking around my room cautiously.

“You’re lucky right?”