By: Lauren Protomanni
Holy Cross Catholic Academy

The sentence leaves you frightened. I have come for you. I have come for you. I have come for you. You re-read it countless times, and it continues to echo through your head. The five words terrify you, as you stare at the letter, as if it was some kind of puzzle. Suddenly, a question pops into your head. A question you would’ve thought of sooner if your fright hadn’t taken over you. “How could the letter be dated today, if great-grandfather died years ago?” As you ponder the question for a minute or two, a loud, heavy bang startles you. You think nothing of it; it could just be the storm acting up. You try to begin solving the question you recently asked yourself, but no answers pop into your head. Seconds later, the noise occurs again, much louder. The intense volume leaves a ringing sensation in your ears. You are terrified, shaking from head to toe, but your curiosity gets the best of you, and you decide to go see whether or not you can find what is causing this irritating, alarming sound.

Since you are already there, you decide to search every room on the middle floor of the house. First, you passed through the living room. Its green walls seem lighter than the last time you have visited. All the furniture looks old and fallen apart. Every time you have passed through this room you ask yourself why your great-grandfather would paint it such a hideous colour. You make your way to the fire place, glancing at the pictures on top. You only glance because each memory of your great-grandfather makes you tear up, and you hate crying. You carefully check if any of the picture frames had fallen over, but each of them were perfectly placed. As you were making your way toward the ragged couches, you hear the noise again, but it seemed much softer and further away, like it is coming from upstairs.

You walked up the continuous wooden stairs, each step creaking louder than the one before, giving you the impression as if something or someone was stalking or watching over you, until you finally reached the upper level. You noticed that all the doors were shut closed, except for the white door on the left. You decide to go into that room, since it was the closest and only one open. When you walked into the room, the first thing that caught your eye was the room’s childish décor. The room was painted a bright pink, brighter than any shade of pink you have ever seen. Stuffed animals were aligned on the bed, and the windows were covered by transparent, matching pink blinds. You realized it was your mother’s old room from when she was a little girl. You walked up to the blinds, and opened them up, staring mindlessly into the front yard of the house. You realized the storm has gotten worse, leaving countless puddles in the walkway. The thick trees covered the little bit of sun that could’ve been peeking through. The rain pounded loudly on the window. You were finally calm, you always loved watching rain, it reminded you of those summer days where all you could do was relax. Finally for the first time today, you were relaxed. Then, the noise occurred again, but this time much louder than it has ever been. It sounded like something had shattered. You’re shaking because the fright has taken over you once again. Slowly, you turn around with your head down. The first thing you see is glass on the floor, white glass. It looked like porcelain. You look up and see that one of the porcelain dolls that was on a shelf has collapsed. The remaining dolls are making direct eye contact with you. You dash out of the room, running faster than you ever had down the stairs. Porcelain dolls have always been a fear of yours since you were an imaginative child.

As you reach for the doorknob to get out of the house, you turn around to take one final look at the house. You quickly notice that the basement light is on. You didn’t go to the basement at all today, you think. Tears of terror are running down your cheek. You’re scared, more than you have ever been. But something inside you is telling you to go to the basement, and this time it wasn’t curiosity. You couldn’t figure out what was making you go into the basement, but before you knew it, you were stepping down the wooden stairs. Each stair creaked louder and louder and louder.

When you reached the bottom of the staircase, you saw your great-grandfather’s old rocking chair. You go sit in it, you’re not sure why, but you just do. Memories of sitting on his lap as a child flash through your head. Oh, how you miss those times. You realize that you’re sitting on something. You get off the chair, and notice that you were sitting on a golden necklace. Oh, it was great-grandfather’s favourite. You remember he used to wear it every single day. You grabbed the necklace and put it around your throat. You are no longer scared, and you feel a sense of comfort. You walk up the stairs, but no creaking sound is heard. You lock the door and walk out of the house, shutting it tightly. Outside, the storm has cleared up. There is no more rain. You walk through the deep, muddy puddles back to where you car is. You come to the realization that your great-grandfather has come for you, and he will always be with you.

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