It was 11:52 pm. The night was cool and airy. The wind howled through the tiny crevices in the windows and doors and made a whistling, soothing sound in their uninhibited movements. It seemed like a perfect night for a romantic movie and some hot chocolate, a combination I had grown rather addicted to in the past two weeks.
I sat at the living room watching a movie that starred Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock. My little boy would be fast assleep now, he was usually knocked out cold by midnight, it was a habit he had developed after he spent the early hours of the evening prancing about and drawing imaginary superheroes in midair. We lived alone, his father worked in far away Ohio and only came back a couple of months at a time. Loneliness had become a friend.
I was half way through the movie, smiling to myself, when I heard a sound and turned sharply. Only to see my 7 year old son standing quietly at the foot of the stairs and staring blankly at me.
"Ted" I called, somewhat surprised "What are you still doing up? or down here - as the case appears"
"I can't sleep" He replied.
"Why?"
"He keeps biting my toes and playing with my hair"
I stared at him confused for a minute.
"He? who is he?"
"The old man with the ghostly white skin and old torn clothes. He smells like blood".
I mopped at him. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. My first thought were rodents prowling around in my son's room but I quickly dismissed the thought, my house was rodent free, had been rodent free for a while now. It probably was a nightmare..but then again, Ted hadn't had nightmares since he was born. Things change though. We may have welcomed a few rodents over the weeks and Ted may have exposed himself to something scary in school
"Ok, sugar" I began, standing up "Lets go upstairs and get you tucked in and while we are at it, mama will have a talk with the old white man, ok?"
He nodded mutely and I held his hands and led him up the stairs back to his room.
After tucking him in, I made sure the windows were securely locked and the blinds drawn, then I put on his bedside lamp and and kissed him goodnight. I waited for a few minutes till he was breathing calmly in sleep before tip-toeing out of the room.
When I got back down to the sitting room, someone had stopped my movie and had switched the channel to "Paranormal cases" a documentary on ghosts and spirits as reported by people.
I stared at the TV for a while, confused. Did I change the channel before going up with Ted? or was it a fluctuation? but network fluctuations don't include tuning to a new channel, do they?
Then I noticed my hot chocolate had been consumed entirely and I was sure I had only taken a few sips!
My senses flew on alert! someone was prowling inmy house. I quickly turned on all the light bulbs and snatched a big stick. I stood for a while listening quietly but the house was as eerily silent as a graveyard. I made my way to the kitchen, cautiously. Breathing, heaving.......
My son Ted was in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water.
This just wasn't right. I had put him in bed and I sure as hell didn't hear him come down stairs.
He turned to look at me "Mummy, he still wouldn't let me sleep and now, he says he is going to kill me for talking to you about it"
I stood staring transfixed at my son. My head doing cartwheels. What the hell was going on?
And just as I was about opening my mouth to utter my confusion, I heard a slow eerie chuckle coming from the sitting room.
"He is here mum." My son said calmly.
"Who?" I croaked, my voice trapped in my throat and all my muscles suddenly numbed with terror. I didn't dare turn back towards the living room.
"Philip Bailey. The man who died in this same house mysteriously 24 years ago. He was buried right here. Right where we are standing"
I looked at Ted. This wasn't my son. My son's skin wasn't pasty and he didn't have a dead look in his eyes.
Besides, there was no way he would have come down to the kitchen without my notice and if all else failed, Ted did not talk in this insanely terrifying manner.
I backed away slowly. The chuckle in the living room had stopped. This person in my kitchen was standing very still and gazing at me.
"Mummy, why are you walking away from me?" He asked in that creepy voice and took a step forward.
"Stay back!" I snapped.
It was at that moment, a realization dawned on me. A sickening one that drained every colour from my face.
It wasn't rodents bothering my son.
He was right. Someone was indeed in his room
And I had left him there all alone.
Successfully distracted by whoever this was in my kitchen, gawking at me with soulless eyes.
My panic flew into feverish mode and I spun a 360 and made my way towards the stairs but a hand, unbelievably strong, lurched forward and grabbed me by my hair, pulling me back into the kitchen with a force so unearthly, the room spun out of focus
