A Huanted Picture That Stalks You
Amy was always disturbed by the picture. It was just a simple black-and-white photo, sitting unprovocatively on her desk. It showed a girl of about fourteen, sitting on a chair and looking listlessly at the camera. She wasn't anything special, with dark hair and thin, high-set eyes. Her clothes were plain and she was wearing a simple chain around her neck; probably gold juding by the hue. And yet, she seemed to Amy to be the most malignant thing in the house. She would always turn the picture around whenever she came into the room, so that it faced the wall. Her mother always came in and turned it back round while she was away at school, despite her daughter's protests. "It's just a photo", she would say, ",it can't do you any harm.". Amy thought otherwise, but reluctantly stopped turning the picture around whenever she walked in. She continued to have a deep mistrust that she couldn't quite base for the picture, further reinforced by that one night; a night that would stay with her for a long time.
It had snowed the day before, and the temperature outside had ensured that the snow, now compacted into lethal black ice, had stayed on the ground. Amy loved the snow; loved the way it looked, and the way it crunched under her boots, and the way it managed o make even the most boring office block into a festive snow-capped monolith. At night, the snow would reflect the street lights and make the night bright and crisp. Amy, with an irrational fear of the dark that her parents had tried in vain to quash, loved this element of it. It was one of these nights now, with the moon beaming down over her little town and the clouds scudding across the sky. Her parents had put her to bed a while earlier, and were about to retire themselves. She was sunggled under the duvet with her face pressed into the pillow, curled in the fetal position to keep out the winter's chill. The light from the hallway threw striped patterns on her bed, and the radiator rattled and creaked good-naturedly. She happened to glance sideways at her little table, and noticed something amiss. The picture, usually at the back behind her china money-bank, was now at the front. It seemed to cast an aura of darkness around it so that Amy couldn't see the ornaments behind it.
The girl stood up and walked over to her little table. She crouched and looked at the picture, squinting in the dull light. Her heart skipped a beat. The girl was no longer there. She picked up the picture and held it up to the light. Yes, the girl was definitely absent. She put it back on the table, her heart racing, and looked around her. Did the room seem darker than usual? She shook herself. No, there was nothing wrong. She was tired, and her mind was probably just playing tricks. She climbed back into bed, and pulled the sheets over her. Gradually, she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
She wok with a start. All was dark. The light outside her hall was off. It was never turned off. She panicked briefly, her mind clouding. Then she noticed taht it was off, but something was blocking the light. A figure. She looked up. Standing at her door was a tall girl. She was looking at Amy, the light making her eyes glint menacingly. She started walking slowly over. Amy whimpered and crawled to the back of her bed. The girl reached out an arm, closing in steadily on the bed. Darkness flowed around her, making the light dance disconcertingly. The girl spoke.
"Come withe me." Her voice was like the grating of ancient stones. Amy shook her head, her throat too dark to speak. The girl repeated herself.
"No!", Amy shouted. She was now backed into the wall, the duvet wrapped around her slender frame. She could feel herself shaking. The girl snarled, and darkness flowed from her outstretched hand. Amy screamed.
Her parents rushed in, barging the door open. They saw Amy, trembling in the corner, and rushed to her side. Amy did not sleep again for three nights.
It had been nearly a month since then, with no sign of anything strange. Amy was still haunted, though, by her experience that night. She would wake up in the early hours of the morning, drenched in a cold sweat. She had taken the picture out of her room, into the garden, and smashed it with a hammer. Then she had burned the picture. Still, she had been troubled by near-sleepless nights and twisted nightmares since that fateful day.
She was walking to school now, the frost crisp under her feet. It was a cold, still day, the kind that makes you want to go for long walks in hills. Instead, however, she had to spend seven torturous hours under the supervision of Mrs. Fleetbody, her draconian form tutor. She sighed, and looked up at the roofs of the houses around her. She noticed something out of the corner of her eye. It was afigure, standing on a roof.
"Just a man fixing something", she said to herself, and walked on. Ahead of her, movement caught her eye again, and she saw a figure stepping into an alleyway; the same height of the one on the roof. Intrigued, she stepped in after it, and was greeted by an empty alleyway, coated with a layer of rubbish and refuse. She looked around her for a door, and then walked a little further down.
Amy caught sight of the figure as it stepped into a door. She worked it out in her head, and realised that it must be the door to the old theatre. She walked up to the door and peered in.
All was dark inside, the old stage covered in dust. There was a smell of damp and rotting leaves. Amy walked in, and looked around. She had always loved old buildings. A flash of movement attracted her attention, and she looked up. As she was distracted, the door swung shut behind her, engulfing her in the gloom. She suppressed a scream, and the familiar panic rose in her throat. She turned, found the doorhandle, and wrenched on it. The door was locked tightly. She looked around wildly for another exit, and was rewarded with a glimpse of light from a stage door. She ran towards it, dropping her bag behind her, and pulled it open.
The corridor beyond it was dimly lit and full of puddles. She walked quickly forwards, keeping her gaze firmly ahead, and came to another door. She tugged on the handle. It was locked. She looked around for another way, but it was a dead end. Witha groan, she turned back the way she came, and gasped.
Ahead of her, the corridor was dark. As she watched, the blackness engulfed another of the lights on the ceiling. Amy drew a shaky breath, and stood up to her full height.
"What do you want?" she said to the corridor at large.
The darkness swirled and rippled,and a figure stepped out. Amy screamed.
It was the girl, and now that Amy could see her fully, she wished that she couldn't.
The girl had no eyes, only empty holes. Inside, Amy could see nothing, just...darkness. The girl's face was crusted with blood and scabs. She reached out, and started walking slowly towards Amy once again. The poor girl pressed herself up against the wall. She could feel something hot trickling down her legs, hot as spilled tea.
"No!" she screamed. "No! No! No-"
The darkness swallowed her.
Sorry this was so long... I just started it and then I couldn't stop
Oh, well. Hope you enjoy.
This post has been edited by Sammy: 17 December 2010 - 04:58 PM