Haunted

Haunted | Lily Pacuit | Drawing

Haunted by Ben Lapin

I’m going to finish the story this time, Haunt. Please don’t interrupt me.

If you don't mind, Michael, I might have some suggestions

When Mike was nine years old, he made a mistake he would never forget. 

ERASE

When Mike was nine years old, he saw something he shouldn’t have seen.

MAYBE

Mike had never forgotten what he had seen that night. He had woken up in the middle of the night at a small sound outside his window, but he couldn’t get up to see what it was. He was forced to sit and listen as

NO

Quiet. Mike needs to remember.

MIKE WOULD BE HAPPIER WITH THIS MEMORY FORGOTTEN

Mike was fixed in his bed, unable to move, as his window slid ever so slowly upward, making a horrible scrape that must be waking his parents, it should have woken his parents, but where were they? They weren’t there. Maybe they couldn’t move either. Maybe they were too deeply asleep to hear. Maybe they were dead. 

Mike listened to the window scrape slowly open. He found that he couldn’t turn his head to look at it, but out of the corner of his eye he watched the shadows of leaves dance on his window. It was being opened.  He stared as hard as he could at the window, trying to see what was opening his window. 

NOTHING WAS THERE

Mike couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there. He had an image of a small animal trying to get into a house for warmth.

SQUIRRELS CAN’T OPEN WINDOWS, MICHAEL

But that doesn’t make sense, thought Mike. The window creaked open another few centimeters. He saw it lift, but he couldn’t see what was lifting it. The shadows playing against the window and the floor showed no indication of an animal of any size trying to lift the window. And besides, rodents couldn’t open windows. 

MUST HAVE BEEN HIS IMAGINATION

It must be something else. Mike’s nine-year-old brain flashed through every ghost story his brother had told.

MIKE WAS AN ONLY CHILD

It must be something else. Mike’s nine-year-old brain flashed through every ghost story he’d ever heard from his friends. 

Ghouls and demons and ghosts and goblins and terrible creatures that climb through your windows in the dead of night and pull your life out through your throat. Mike tried to scream. He tried to run. He tried to get out of bed. He tried to move his fingers. He couldn’t he couldn’t do anything but watch as the window scraped up another half-inch.

Mike stared at the window out of the corner of his eye. He thought that he could hear distant whispers coming through it. They called his name. They asked him why he was still awake. Go to sleep, they whispered. In the morning this will just be a bad dream.

Mike tried to shake his head. He couldn’t move, of course. 

The voices called his name again. They were closer now. They wanted to know why he thought he could keep himself safe in a dangerous world. One day you will die, Michael. One day you will lose your parents, your friends, and everything you hold dear. Go to sleep, and you will wake up happy.

Mike still couldn’t shake his head, or even open his mouth. The window creaked open another inch. The wind picked up. Shadows danced frantically on the window and the floor in front of it. 

A little black cloud entered through the window. It looked like a miniature raincloud, but it moved less like a collection of water vapor and more like an animal, swimming through the air.

STOP

Mike tried to move, once again, but he couldn’t. He realized that he was losing feeling in his toes and his fingers. He realized that as he breathed in, he inhaled the

NO

Mike tried

STOP

Mike wanted

DON’T YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY? Michael, please. Please don't finish this story.

Mike had a strange feeling as he watched the cloud move. He felt empty. Quiet. He felt as if his breath had left him, and the cloud had come to replace it.

That’s better

Mike didn’t need his brother. He didn’t need his parents. He had the cloud, and it would keep him safe.

That’s a nice story, Michael. It just needs an ending

Mike inhaled slowly through his nose, breathing in the life that the cloud offered him. Warmth flooded through his body. Feeling returned to his hands and feet. Mike yawned, rolled over, and fell asleep.

And that was how Mike met Haunt the friendly ghost, and they have kept each other safe ever since. What a nice story, Michael 

Why won’t you let me remember?

You’re happy now, see?

I can’t remember my life before now except in horror stories that I tell myself, and even in those, you don’t let me get to the end.

You wouldn’t like what you saw

And?

And you might leave me

Why would I do that?

You know why. I'm a ghost. I'm terrifying

Right. But I want to know

I know. That'll go away in the morning. Go to sleep, Michael

Good night, Haunt

Good night