The Ghost In My Room
This was also a 'full-length' submission rather than an actual flash novella piece. But I wanted to introduce a character in so my main character wasn't alone, and took the opportunity to write her a backstory so I had a better idea of what I wanted to do with her.
The Ghost In My Room
Seventeen year old Farrah had always been able to see things; the sort of things other people couldn't. For as long as she could remember, people always had a sort of glow surrounding them, the colors varied from person to person, and it wasn't entirely noticeable unless Farrah was actually looking for it. Everyone had one, one of these aura-type halos around them, and Farrah found that generally their colors reflected the personalities of the person they were attached to.
Farrah didn't talk about the things she could see. Her parents usually brushed her comments aside, telling her to stop fantasizing.
But it wasn't only auras Farrah could see. Sometimes there were people, too.
***
Once, when she was only in kindergarten, she had seen a man standing in her room. He seemed inhumanly tall, and blended into the dark shadows near her closet. The outline of his shape was clear enough, a tall man wearing a hat and long jacket, but Farrah could not make out any features. It was as though he was a shadow - his face and body were pitch black. But he was not a shadow. Farrah pulled her purple sheets up to her nose, careful not to obscure her vision. She was certain something bad would happen if she so much as blinked. The figure did not move. Seconds felt like hours. Farrah's eyes began to sting, and just as she was about to blink, the figure shifted. The dark that should have been it's face seemed to grow slowly lighter, until a pale white grin stretched across what should have been a face. Tears streamed down Farrah's face as she darted down the hallway toward her parent's room. She could sense the presence behind her, following her, and felt her hair tug backward just as she pushed her parents' door open. Farrah screamed and suddenly it was gone. Her parents jolted awake and ran to her.
“What happened?” asked her father, kneeling next to her and putting his arm around her.
“Someone in my room,” Farrah sobbed, her nose running down her face. Her mother wiped it gently with a tissue.
Farrah's father walked cautiously to her room. With his back to the wall in the hallway, he leaned into the doorway, pushing the door itself slowly open. The room was empty. He sighed, walking back to his own room.
“There's nobody there,” he said.
“It was just a nightmare,” her mother assured her, stroking Farrah's hair.
They escorted the child back to her room, tucking her back into her purple sheets. Her father tucked her stuffed horse in next to her before he and his wife slipped quietly out of the room, leaving the door slightly cracked as they went. Farrah's gaze followed them as they left, and lingered on the dim light shining in from the hallway. After a minute or so she finally turned her head toward the corner near the closet. The man was there, grin and all.
Farrah threw her sheets over her head and tried not to move. She could see the shadows creeping toward her bed, and she began to tremble. She tried to hold her breath, but eventually fell into shallow, short gasps for air. Farrah closed her eyes, tight, clinging to her stuffed horse
The next morning Farrah awoke to the sunlight beaming through her window. She couldn't remember falling asleep the night before. Carefully she pulled the sheets from over her head, peeking her brown eyes out. She forced herself to check the corner again, but it was empty. Quickly she threw her covers to the other side of the bed and trotted down the hall again to her parents room, crawling in next to her mother.
***
The figure visited Farrah several more times. Each time it's grin seemed to grow just a bit wider, and each time her father could find nothing in her room. Eventually her parents got fed up with her 'nightmares' and once her father even threatened to ground her if he heard the story one more time.
It wasn't just the man in Farrah's room she could see. Sometimes she would comment on the strange clothes people were wearing while she and her mother were running errands, but her mother could never seem to catch a glimpse of the people in question. Occasionally Farrah's mother would let her frustration show, telling the girl to stop making up stories, and calling her things like 'the girl who cried wolf'.
After a while Farrah learned to keep her comments to herself. The doctors assured her parents that she would grow out of it, but the others, as Farrah began referring to them, were always there. Most of them didn't seem malicious; the man in her room was the exception.
***
By her senior year of high school Farrah had grown to be very sarcastic and isolated. She had grown up in a small town where everyone knew everyone else and conformity was key. While most of the girls kept their hair long and straight, Farrah chose to keep hers short and teased the ends to flip out. The other girls wore skirts and cute blouses, but Farrah wore ripped jeans and t-shirts. It wasn't that Farrah wanted to isolate herself. The children had been slowly ostracizing her since she was in kindergarten.
“Ghost girl,” the children would tease, “Freak!”
Farrah began to lose interest in other people, as other people would rarely manage to maintain a serious tone when speaking with her, and in the end decided it wasn't worth the effort to maintain a bunch of false pretenses in the form of fake relationships.
It was soon after her seventeenth birthday around the beginning of summer when Farrah began to notice something was off. Some people's auras were shining brighter than she had ever seen them - mostly the elderly, but a few other people here and there. Although auras were usually faint, they had a tendency to grow fainter as one ages. This left Farrah feeling a bit unsettled, but she ignored it as best she could.
***
As Farrah pulled down the sheets on her bed, which were now a deep purple rather than the lighter lavender ones she had used as a child, she caught a gleam out of the corner of her eye. It seemed to be coming from the window, so she pulled it open and leaned her head out. Her room was positioned near the front of the house, so she had a window facing the street as well as one facing the side yard. From the window facing the street Farrah could lean out and see several houses down in either direction. She scanned the road for cars, of which there were none, and decided the light she had seen was her imagination. Before she could pull herself back inside; however, a blinding light emanated in the window of one of the houses across the street. She couldn't tell exactly what was going on, just that there appeared to be two people in the room: one of which seemed to be glowing. The rest of the lights in the house were off.
Farrah ran downstairs and grabbed her mother by the arm, dragging her out the front door.
“Do you see that?” Farrah asked, pointing toward the neighbor's house.
“See what?” her mother questioned.
“That weird light in the upstairs room,” Farrah said, pointing again at the window.
“There is no light in that upstairs room,. All of the lights in that house are off. I thought you had stopped acting out like this and making up stories years ago,” Farrah's mom said, exasperated.
“Sorry,” Farrah muttered, lowering her head but glaring at her mother out of the corner of her eye, “I guess I just imagined it.”
Farrah's mother turned and walked back into the house, but Farrah lingered behind. The light was still there, and it almost looked human. A shudder ran down her spine. She didn't like the feeling the scene gave her. It almost reminded her of the man that used to visit her as a child.
***
The next afternoon Farrah spent wandering the neighborhood aimlessly. Since the town was small it didn't take more than an hour or two to walk from one edge to the other, especially since her pace was quick. She had just rounded a corner near the opposite edge from where she lived when a dog shot out from the side of one of the houses and disappeared behind another across the street, followed shortly by a boy about Farrah's age. She stared after them for a moment, contemplating whether it was worth the effort for her to lend a hand, before deciding that she'd rather continue her walk with as little interaction with other people as possible.
She doubled her pace until she was out of view of the house the dog had disappeared behind. By then Farrah was almost at the border of the far edge of town. The houses were growing smaller in number and the trees were becoming denser. She'd never wandered far into the wooded area on that side of town. There were always others there, and Farrah didn't feel as safe outside the protection of the houses and stores in town.
On her way back Farrah noticed blue flashing lights in the distance. As she drew closer she realized they were parked in front of the houses from earlier, with the boy and dog. Near what looked like the boy's house, from where the dog had appeared originally, Farrah ducked behind a tree, hoping the twilight would help to hide her while she listened in on the officer's conversations. It was difficult to understand what they were talking about, but there was police tape blocking off the house across the street and she distinctly heard the word 'disappearance' several times.
Farrah waited, crouched behind the tree, until the police had finally driven away. It was her intention to sneak around the taped off house to see if she could find anything interesting. She had only taken a few steps into the street when she caught sight of something slightly behind her. She turned quickly, hoping to see one of the others but knowing it wasn't, only to catch a glimpse of a shadow disappearing toward the woods. Goosebumps spread up Farrah's arms and she could feel the hair standing up on the back of her neck.
She had just decided to sprint home as fast as she could manage when the door to the boy's house flung open, and out dashed the boy from earlier, running in the direction the shadow had disappeared in. Farrah's jaw hung slightly ajar, and before she knew what she was doing, she took off after the boy.
Part 5: Pieces
Part 6: Your Eyes
The Ghost In My Room
Seventeen year old Farrah had always been able to see things; the sort of things other people couldn't. For as long as she could remember, people always had a sort of glow surrounding them, the colors varied from person to person, and it wasn't entirely noticeable unless Farrah was actually looking for it. Everyone had one, one of these aura-type halos around them, and Farrah found that generally their colors reflected the personalities of the person they were attached to.
Farrah didn't talk about the things she could see. Her parents usually brushed her comments aside, telling her to stop fantasizing.
But it wasn't only auras Farrah could see. Sometimes there were people, too.
***
Once, when she was only in kindergarten, she had seen a man standing in her room. He seemed inhumanly tall, and blended into the dark shadows near her closet. The outline of his shape was clear enough, a tall man wearing a hat and long jacket, but Farrah could not make out any features. It was as though he was a shadow - his face and body were pitch black. But he was not a shadow. Farrah pulled her purple sheets up to her nose, careful not to obscure her vision. She was certain something bad would happen if she so much as blinked. The figure did not move. Seconds felt like hours. Farrah's eyes began to sting, and just as she was about to blink, the figure shifted. The dark that should have been it's face seemed to grow slowly lighter, until a pale white grin stretched across what should have been a face. Tears streamed down Farrah's face as she darted down the hallway toward her parent's room. She could sense the presence behind her, following her, and felt her hair tug backward just as she pushed her parents' door open. Farrah screamed and suddenly it was gone. Her parents jolted awake and ran to her.
“What happened?” asked her father, kneeling next to her and putting his arm around her.
“Someone in my room,” Farrah sobbed, her nose running down her face. Her mother wiped it gently with a tissue.
Farrah's father walked cautiously to her room. With his back to the wall in the hallway, he leaned into the doorway, pushing the door itself slowly open. The room was empty. He sighed, walking back to his own room.
“There's nobody there,” he said.
“It was just a nightmare,” her mother assured her, stroking Farrah's hair.
They escorted the child back to her room, tucking her back into her purple sheets. Her father tucked her stuffed horse in next to her before he and his wife slipped quietly out of the room, leaving the door slightly cracked as they went. Farrah's gaze followed them as they left, and lingered on the dim light shining in from the hallway. After a minute or so she finally turned her head toward the corner near the closet. The man was there, grin and all.
Farrah threw her sheets over her head and tried not to move. She could see the shadows creeping toward her bed, and she began to tremble. She tried to hold her breath, but eventually fell into shallow, short gasps for air. Farrah closed her eyes, tight, clinging to her stuffed horse
The next morning Farrah awoke to the sunlight beaming through her window. She couldn't remember falling asleep the night before. Carefully she pulled the sheets from over her head, peeking her brown eyes out. She forced herself to check the corner again, but it was empty. Quickly she threw her covers to the other side of the bed and trotted down the hall again to her parents room, crawling in next to her mother.
***
The figure visited Farrah several more times. Each time it's grin seemed to grow just a bit wider, and each time her father could find nothing in her room. Eventually her parents got fed up with her 'nightmares' and once her father even threatened to ground her if he heard the story one more time.
It wasn't just the man in Farrah's room she could see. Sometimes she would comment on the strange clothes people were wearing while she and her mother were running errands, but her mother could never seem to catch a glimpse of the people in question. Occasionally Farrah's mother would let her frustration show, telling the girl to stop making up stories, and calling her things like 'the girl who cried wolf'.
After a while Farrah learned to keep her comments to herself. The doctors assured her parents that she would grow out of it, but the others, as Farrah began referring to them, were always there. Most of them didn't seem malicious; the man in her room was the exception.
***
By her senior year of high school Farrah had grown to be very sarcastic and isolated. She had grown up in a small town where everyone knew everyone else and conformity was key. While most of the girls kept their hair long and straight, Farrah chose to keep hers short and teased the ends to flip out. The other girls wore skirts and cute blouses, but Farrah wore ripped jeans and t-shirts. It wasn't that Farrah wanted to isolate herself. The children had been slowly ostracizing her since she was in kindergarten.
“Ghost girl,” the children would tease, “Freak!”
Farrah began to lose interest in other people, as other people would rarely manage to maintain a serious tone when speaking with her, and in the end decided it wasn't worth the effort to maintain a bunch of false pretenses in the form of fake relationships.
It was soon after her seventeenth birthday around the beginning of summer when Farrah began to notice something was off. Some people's auras were shining brighter than she had ever seen them - mostly the elderly, but a few other people here and there. Although auras were usually faint, they had a tendency to grow fainter as one ages. This left Farrah feeling a bit unsettled, but she ignored it as best she could.
***
As Farrah pulled down the sheets on her bed, which were now a deep purple rather than the lighter lavender ones she had used as a child, she caught a gleam out of the corner of her eye. It seemed to be coming from the window, so she pulled it open and leaned her head out. Her room was positioned near the front of the house, so she had a window facing the street as well as one facing the side yard. From the window facing the street Farrah could lean out and see several houses down in either direction. She scanned the road for cars, of which there were none, and decided the light she had seen was her imagination. Before she could pull herself back inside; however, a blinding light emanated in the window of one of the houses across the street. She couldn't tell exactly what was going on, just that there appeared to be two people in the room: one of which seemed to be glowing. The rest of the lights in the house were off.
Farrah ran downstairs and grabbed her mother by the arm, dragging her out the front door.
“Do you see that?” Farrah asked, pointing toward the neighbor's house.
“See what?” her mother questioned.
“That weird light in the upstairs room,” Farrah said, pointing again at the window.
“There is no light in that upstairs room,. All of the lights in that house are off. I thought you had stopped acting out like this and making up stories years ago,” Farrah's mom said, exasperated.
“Sorry,” Farrah muttered, lowering her head but glaring at her mother out of the corner of her eye, “I guess I just imagined it.”
Farrah's mother turned and walked back into the house, but Farrah lingered behind. The light was still there, and it almost looked human. A shudder ran down her spine. She didn't like the feeling the scene gave her. It almost reminded her of the man that used to visit her as a child.
***
The next afternoon Farrah spent wandering the neighborhood aimlessly. Since the town was small it didn't take more than an hour or two to walk from one edge to the other, especially since her pace was quick. She had just rounded a corner near the opposite edge from where she lived when a dog shot out from the side of one of the houses and disappeared behind another across the street, followed shortly by a boy about Farrah's age. She stared after them for a moment, contemplating whether it was worth the effort for her to lend a hand, before deciding that she'd rather continue her walk with as little interaction with other people as possible.
She doubled her pace until she was out of view of the house the dog had disappeared behind. By then Farrah was almost at the border of the far edge of town. The houses were growing smaller in number and the trees were becoming denser. She'd never wandered far into the wooded area on that side of town. There were always others there, and Farrah didn't feel as safe outside the protection of the houses and stores in town.
On her way back Farrah noticed blue flashing lights in the distance. As she drew closer she realized they were parked in front of the houses from earlier, with the boy and dog. Near what looked like the boy's house, from where the dog had appeared originally, Farrah ducked behind a tree, hoping the twilight would help to hide her while she listened in on the officer's conversations. It was difficult to understand what they were talking about, but there was police tape blocking off the house across the street and she distinctly heard the word 'disappearance' several times.
Farrah waited, crouched behind the tree, until the police had finally driven away. It was her intention to sneak around the taped off house to see if she could find anything interesting. She had only taken a few steps into the street when she caught sight of something slightly behind her. She turned quickly, hoping to see one of the others but knowing it wasn't, only to catch a glimpse of a shadow disappearing toward the woods. Goosebumps spread up Farrah's arms and she could feel the hair standing up on the back of her neck.
She had just decided to sprint home as fast as she could manage when the door to the boy's house flung open, and out dashed the boy from earlier, running in the direction the shadow had disappeared in. Farrah's jaw hung slightly ajar, and before she knew what she was doing, she took off after the boy.
Part 5: Pieces
Part 6: Your Eyes