Don't Open The Window

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 01, 2017

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Submitted: November 01, 2017

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Don’t Open The Window

I don’t know how much time I have left as I’m writing this, but whoever you are, pay attention, and don’t ever open your window in the darkest of hours.

It started when I was four, at a birthday party. We were celebrating my best friend Tommy’s birthday in his large back yard, and playing hide and seek, when I realized I was very lost. All of my attempts to find the group ended in vain, and I eventually ended up in one of the old barns, silently crying, when I heard a soft knock coming from one of the boarded up windows. I slowly looked up into the darkness, straining to see someone through the thin strips of moonlight, when an unknown woman softly spoke. “Honey’, it began. “can you please open this window?”. Naturally, I screamed.

Desperately, she tried again. “Don’t be afraid”, she rushed. “Just please open the window” she pushed out pleadingly. I screamed louder. Soon enough, Tommy’s mother appeared, swooped me up, and carried me off. Another incident similar to this one happened again 2 years later at a family reunion.

I badly needed to go to the bathroom, and the nearest one had a small window, obscured by a short thick curtain. When I was finished, as I turned to leave a harsh banging escaped the windows small frame. I slowly turned to see the outline of a burly man through the curtains velvet. “listen up you little-”. Not many calming words came from his mouth after that. When he had finished his little outburst, he finished with, “Just open the window kid”. Being six, and having already dealt with this once, I shouted and screamed for anyone to come and rescue me, since the door was not being cooperative.

Rushedly, the man tried to reason with me. “Hey wait”, he began. “I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t understand, please-” My wails grew louder. Once again, a relative came, whilst giving me a funny look, and I bolted away from my small prison. As the years went on, the number of voices grew. From a young man in his mid-twenties, to an older woman that sounded around 40. Every time one of them would confront me, it was always while I was alone with no one around. As I aged they didn’t seem to. They only let more fear seep into their voices with every shout and plea.

Now I’m in college. There are now 14 voices altogether, and though they can’t reach me, I feel a growing sense of danger every day, and I feel as if my time is growing short. The voices never come after me when I’m in a large crowd. Only when I’m alone, and exclusively through windows. I’ve managed to avoid confrontation for months at a time by sticking with large crowds and rarely going anywhere alone. But whenever the voices do reach me, the amount of venom and fear in their voices seems to have tripled.

One day, after a solid week of finals, instead of going out with my roommate Mike, I decided to stay in and hit the hay. Mike shrugged, slammed the door on his way out, and locked it. Forgetting the reason of why I usually tag along due to a hard week of studying and tests, I strode into my room and slammed my body onto my bed. Almost immediately, all 14 voices slammed into my head like a wall, and the small window above my bed vibrated with the power of it. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t answer. I was overwhelmed with fear, and retreated into a corner trembling in terror. CRACK! Was that the window? CRACK! It was! Were the voices mad? Would they hurt me? CCRRRAACK! In what sounded like a shattering sound, all 14 of the voices gave a terror filled scream, and fell silent. And I promptly fainted.

When I woke, I was on my bed, which was definitely where I had fallen asleep. I tried to brush everything off as a hallucination as I rolled out of bed, but I stopped in my tracks when I faced the opposite wall. It was just a wall. Not a door in sight. I looked around frantically, searching for a way out when I looked up at my window. No other way out but the window. Coming from the left of thewindow I heard a loud banging, and it sounded almost like it was made by a fist. A loud shrill laughter followed, and I realized. Whatever it was, it was coming soon. It wanted me to be scared.

I raced to my window and threw back the curtains, planning my sweet escape. But instead of a sunny, bustling college campus, I saw the terrified eyes of a 5 year old in his nightclothes, clutching a foggy glass of water. I heard the same banging again, this time followed by a small, evil giggle. “Hey kid” I said, my voice revealing a slight tremble. “I really need you to open the window…”

 


© Copyright 2018 Keziah Buford. All rights reserved.

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