Wednesday, November 7, 2018

Short Story by Cora Chavez, Senior

Scary Story

by Cora Chavez


Home is where the heart is supposed to be. I don’t feel love in this house, only fear. My house is not haunted with demons or ghosts, it's forever haunted by my family. Some nights I’m woken up in the middle of the night or maybe it’s more safe to say in the morning, by my younger brother screaming at the top of his lungs. I run to him every time but when I ask him what’s wrong he just stares down with tears in his eyes fumbling with his blanket. He’s never spoken to me about it but I think he dreams that he’s free from this loveless house only to wake up and find that he’s still here.

This house would make anyone scream.

When I get up in the morning to make breakfast I always see my mother in the kitchen but she’s never cooking, she sits in a ball on the dirty tiled floor and rocks back and forth.

Nobody says anything here but me. I’ve grown so used to talking to myself. This place is literally making me insane. Was I already insane to begin with? I can’t leave, I’ve tried so many times the doors and windows won’t open. When I ask my family why they don’t answer. What are they keeping from me? I’m so scared it’s going to be like this forever that I’ll never see any of them smile or hear their laughs.

It was a Tuesday morning when I found myself digging through my mom's drawers out of pure boredom. She was in her room while I was doing it, surprisingly enough she didn’t care! She just laid in bed doing nothing...that’s all most of them ever did. Especially my older little brother, he didn’t play video games anymore he was always under his blankets. I never saw him leave his room. He’d cry a lot. I missed his laugh the most.

My ma had so much stuff in her drawers. I found a bunch of double A batteries, coupons, like 18 quarters and a little tiny stack of papers, probably just old receipts I had thought to myself. I started to unfold them curious about the last things she bought that were worth saving the receipt for.

These weren’t receipts.

I saw my handwriting and I started to scream. I screamed and screamed until my voice was gone. How could I do this to them? I broke them and now I was stuck here forever to watch.

I wasn’t in a haunted house, I was haunting it.

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