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Rated: E · Short Story · Supernatural · #1490419
Based on a true story.
Third Place Winner in the Flash of Lightning Contest - October, 2008 (Shorter Version)


Nine-year-old David sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed playing a hand-held game.  He shivered in the sudden chill permeating his bedroom and looked up toward the window.  It was closed.  His gaze swept the room and huddled in a corner as if they were smelling a pot on a stove, were three strangers.  There was a really big man, who appeared to be middle-aged, wearing boots, baggy trousers, a dark shirt and some sort of floppy hat.  Next to him was a woman of about the same age dressed in a long, full-skirted, long-sleeved dress; her hair pulled back into a loose bun.  The third person was a girl, twice his size with unruly, flaming-red hair that flared out from her head and tumbled halfway down her back in a mass of wild curls.  She wore ankle-high shoes and her dark blue dress reached almost to the floor.

“Who are you?” David inquired in a frightened whisper.  “And what are you doing in my room?”

All three turned to give him a menacing glare.

David stared wide-eyed.  Feeling all the blood draining from his face, he gulped, jumped off his bed and ran out of the room. 

From the hallway, he turned and looked back into the room.  The three intruders had returned to whatever they were doing before he had spoken.  He breathed a huge sigh of relief and proceeded to the living room where he turned on the television and tried to forget what he had seen.

He was engrossed in Zack & Cody when his mother’s voice broke his concentration.

“Adam, David, dinner’s ready.  Go wash your hands.”

As they ate, David and his older brother, Adam, fielded the usual questions, ‘How was school today?’ and ‘Is your homework finished?’  David tried to listen to his brother’s animated account of that afternoon’s soccer practice and push thoughts of the strangers lurking in his bedroom out of his mind.

When the meal was finished, the boys helped clear the table before engaging in a Rock Band session on the PlayStation.  All too soon Mom appeared behind them. 

After standing and watching them play for a moment, she said, “David, it’s time for your bath.  You need to get to bed soon.”

When she left the room, David turned to his brother and asked in a shaky voice, “Adam, can I sleep in your room tonight?”

“No, brat, you’ve got your own room!”

“But I don’t like my room. I wish we’d move back to where we were before.  Do you like it here?” 

Adam shrugged.  “It’s okay.”

David dragged his feet getting ready for bed. But no sooner had his mom turned out the light when the trio rushed toward the bed waving their arms and, from the looks on their contorted faces, angrily shouting.

Terrified, David fumbled on his nightstand for the Bible his grandparents had given him when he started school.  Holding the sacred book up in front of him, he tried for a commanding tone.  “Go away!”  His voice broke as he struggled to overcome his fear.  “Just go away and leave me alone!”

Clutching the Bible to his chest, he finally drifted into a restless sleep.

The next morning he hurriedly dressed for school and exited the room.  If only I could tell someone.  But who’d believe me?  They’d just think I was crazy!

Night after night the harassment continued, every time David entered his bedroom he felt threatened by the three unwelcome squatters who seemed to have taken up residence there.

One evening when he entered the room, the redheaded girl charged.  She shoved him backward and, when he fell onto the bed, she leaped on top of him pounding with both fists.  Terrified, he pushed her away and, in desperation, flung his body upward.  She staggered back into the wall and David ran as fast as he could.

“Mom!  Mom!  You gotta do something!”

She caught him in mid-flight  “Hey, what’s going on?  You’re as white as a sheet!”

“Those people in my room!  I’m scared!”

“What people?”

“A man, woman and a girl who jumped me when I just went in there.  I’m afraid to even be in there, let alone sleep!”

His mother frowned.  “What do they look like?”  When he finished describing their appearance, she said, “Let’s go see.”

Side-by-side, they walked into the room.  David stared at the apparitions while his mother’s eyes roamed over the room.  “Where are they?”

David pointed.  “Right over there, in the corner by my closet.”

Slowly, his mother walked around the room, before putting her hand on David’s shoulder and directing him into the living room.  Sitting down on the couch, she patted the place beside her.

“David,” she began slowly, “you’re obviously a very gifted little boy.  You apparently see things that most people can’t.”

Feeling frustrated, he looked pleadingly at her, “But didn’t you see them?”

She shook her head.  “No, I didn’t see them.  But, honey, I felt them when I walked around your room.  I think we have a family here who is dead and doesn’t realize it.  In their eyes you are the intruder.  From the way you’ve described their clothes, they’re probably from the mid-1800s.  Maybe they lived on this land here once, a small cabin on the same spot as your room, and were killed suddenly – perhaps by an Indian attack.  Or they might have been overrun by an army.  This house is in a direct path between The Alamo and where the Battle of San Jacinto took place, maybe the armies went right through here.”

“But can’t we get rid of them?  I don’t want them in my room!”

“We can try to help them move on.  They don’t belong here.  We can try to send them to the Light, like the woman did in The Poltergeist movies, remember those?”

David nodded and, in a voice barely above a whisper, asked,  “Will it really work?”

His mother shrugged and smiled.  “We won’t know until we try, will we?”

“I guess not.”

Hand-in-hand, they went into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Now,” his mom said, “let’s try to contact them mentally and, once we get their attention, tell them to look for the Light and go toward it.  Ready?”

Still clinging to his mother’s hand, David closed his eyes and his brow furrowed in concentration.  Hey, little girl! All of you! You don’t belong here!  Look for the Light!  Go to the Light!  For what seemed like hours, he repeated the words over and over in his mind.

He squinted his eyes open and looked around the room; his eyes popped wide and he turned to his mother with a wide grin.  “We did it!  They’re gone!”


Epilogue:  And they never again came back.

© Copyright 2008 Jaye P. Marshall (jayepmarshall at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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