Three Little Words
Someone else has been living in my flat, I'm sure of it. I've given up trying to explain it to my friends - they all think I'm mad, all except Molly, who, in her typical New Age fashion, instead declared that I have an infestation of pixies and offered to come and do a spiritual cleansing for me. Sweet of her, but unnecessary. I'm positive that somebody else stays here, even though I've never seen them and mine's the only name on the lease.
It was little things that made me wonder at first. A hairbrush left on the dresser instead of by the sink. A coat hung up when I thought I'd left it on the floor. Things that could simply be a sign of absentmindedness. After all, I had been working rather hard recently and there was always the possibility that I hadn't put them where I thought I had the night before and it was my mind playing tricks on me.
But then came the notes. The first was stuck to the front of the fridge:
Clean this out
Nobody could deny this as proof, could they? It wasn't my handwriting and unless I was sleep writing, it had to be someone else. But when I showed it to my friends, they just laughed and pointed out that my fridge was rather disgusting and it was probably my mum trying to be polite. Clearly, they hadn't met my mum. Molly declared that my home was haunted and offered to come and smudge it for me. I couldn't imagine that a poltergeist would choose to leave commentary on my housekeeping, not with all those other powers at its fingertips, so I declined.
The next note was taped to the front of my cupboard:
Buy more coffee
I checked and sure enough, I was running low. Not a coffee drinker myself, I only kept it in for visitors and the jar had been full only a couple of weeks ago. This was clear evidence that I was not alone.
Not according to my friends, who laughed and reckoned that I'd drunk it myself, refusing to believe me when I said that the very smell of it made me want to heave. Molly frowned and decided that I was being targeted by a voodoo deity and offered to come and set up an altar for it. I figured that if that were true, the god was clearly helping itself already so there was no need.
Instead, I decided to set up a trap. I'd already been through the place with a fine toothcomb and been unable to find anyone lurking anywhere, so I rigged up a few cameras and left them running while I went out for the afternoon. When I came back, I switched off the machines and settled down to watch the footage. Sure enough, not long after I left, someone came through the front door, went to the kitchen, where they helped themselves to some food, washed their plates and then disappeared off into the spare room, where they went into the cupboard. I was vindicated! I wasn't mad!
My joy was shortlived, however, when I got to the end of the tape and they still hadn't come out of the cupboard.
The cupboard that I was sitting right in front of.
I was too frightened to move. A note fluttered down, as if materialising from the ceiling, coming to rest by my hand.
GET OUT NOW
I didn't need a second telling. I ran.
It was little things that made me wonder at first. A hairbrush left on the dresser instead of by the sink. A coat hung up when I thought I'd left it on the floor. Things that could simply be a sign of absentmindedness. After all, I had been working rather hard recently and there was always the possibility that I hadn't put them where I thought I had the night before and it was my mind playing tricks on me.
But then came the notes. The first was stuck to the front of the fridge:
Clean this out
Nobody could deny this as proof, could they? It wasn't my handwriting and unless I was sleep writing, it had to be someone else. But when I showed it to my friends, they just laughed and pointed out that my fridge was rather disgusting and it was probably my mum trying to be polite. Clearly, they hadn't met my mum. Molly declared that my home was haunted and offered to come and smudge it for me. I couldn't imagine that a poltergeist would choose to leave commentary on my housekeeping, not with all those other powers at its fingertips, so I declined.
The next note was taped to the front of my cupboard:
Buy more coffee
I checked and sure enough, I was running low. Not a coffee drinker myself, I only kept it in for visitors and the jar had been full only a couple of weeks ago. This was clear evidence that I was not alone.
Not according to my friends, who laughed and reckoned that I'd drunk it myself, refusing to believe me when I said that the very smell of it made me want to heave. Molly frowned and decided that I was being targeted by a voodoo deity and offered to come and set up an altar for it. I figured that if that were true, the god was clearly helping itself already so there was no need.
Instead, I decided to set up a trap. I'd already been through the place with a fine toothcomb and been unable to find anyone lurking anywhere, so I rigged up a few cameras and left them running while I went out for the afternoon. When I came back, I switched off the machines and settled down to watch the footage. Sure enough, not long after I left, someone came through the front door, went to the kitchen, where they helped themselves to some food, washed their plates and then disappeared off into the spare room, where they went into the cupboard. I was vindicated! I wasn't mad!
My joy was shortlived, however, when I got to the end of the tape and they still hadn't come out of the cupboard.
The cupboard that I was sitting right in front of.
I was too frightened to move. A note fluttered down, as if materialising from the ceiling, coming to rest by my hand.
GET OUT NOW
I didn't need a second telling. I ran.