Finish our Horror Story (Anthony Horowitz)

A writing contest in the newspaper, for British teenagers (2007). Not being either a Brit or a teenager, I wrote my story and never submitted it.

The beginning

I always used to think that horror was some-thing that happened at night. You know the sort of thing. It's dark and cloudy and maybe there's a storm trembling in the air and you're lost in the middle of the countryside and suddenly, somewhere a wolf howls ...

By the time I was 14 I'd read all of Darren Shan and I'd even started on Stephen King although my mum didn't like that because of all the rude words. The sort of horror stories I liked best had ghosts and vampires and hideous monsters that jumped out at you just when you weren't expecting them. I once saw a film about a man being chased by cannibals and I swear I didn't sleep for a week.

But as I discovered, real horror isn't like that.

Real horror is worse.

For me, it all started on a beautiful September afternoon. It was the end of our first week at school and I was walking home down streets that I'd known all my life. I remember hearing the chimes of an ice cream van. A bunch of little kids ran past me, chasing after it. There were a couple of workmen painting one of the houses and one of them raised a hand in greeting as I walked past. In other words, everything was normal. It was so normal that I didn't even notice how normal it was, if you know what I mean. No. That's not quite true.

There was one thing.

I live with my mum and dad in a sort of crescent. All the houses are modern and to look at them you'd think they were all competing to have the prettiest front gardens. We're right in the middle and as I approached the front door, I noticed a crow, perched on the roof. It would have been hard to miss. It was a great, fat thing, almost twice the size of any bird I'd ever seen. And it was very black. Its feathers could have been dipped in oil, the way they hung off it. Its eyes - also black - were as bright as diamonds.

There was something pink and nasty, writhing in its beak. The crow was eating it. But as I approached, it stopped and for a moment it seemed to stare right at me. I don't know how long I stood there, looking at it - probably just two or three seconds, although it felt longer. Then, acting on impulse, I leaned down, picked up a stick and threw it at the crow.

"Shoo!" I shouted. "Buzz off!" The crow lurched into the sky and disappeared. And that was it. It was just a bird, eating a worm and I had scared it away. That was what I thought.

I'd already forgotten about it as I fumbled for the keys and opened the front door. As usual, I threw my bag down in the hall and went straight into the kitchen. But nothing was ever going to be "as usual" again. I smelled it first. Sweet and sickening.

And then I saw it.

~ Anthony  Horowitz

It was a young girl standing there. Her skin was pale white. Her lips were the colour of sour cherries in springtime. Her pitch black hair suddenly reminded me of the crow I just scared away. I don’t know for how long I stood there, just staring at her. A feeling of deep fear overwhelmed me, and I didn’t know why. It was as if she felt the fear flowing from my body to hers, as she was politely staring back with this villain smile on her face.

It startled me to find this young lady standing in my kitchen, but I could not say a thing. My state of daydreaming was suddenly interrupted by my sister’s high pitched voice coming from upstairs. “Amy, dear, did you turn off the heating switch? I’m freezing to death here!” Suddenly I could also feel the cold flowing into my body and slightly replacing the strange feeling I had. I turned around to react to my sister’s cry for attention, but as turned back... The lady was gone. She apparently left our house as quick as a flash, and took all strange feelings of fear, confusion and cold with her.

Still a bit bewildered, I ran upstairs to see how my sis was doing. Even more confused I became hen I found nobody was home. The idea occurred to me that it might have been a hallucination: I felt like a druggie anyway, being struck by illness and taking heavy pills twice a day. I decided to continue my way up towards my room. Almost there, I heard somebody shalom the front door. Not having a good feeling about the whole situation, I ran downstairs to find my sister " in a very bad mood.  I wanted to tell her what happened, but being offered a very explicit “SHUT UP!” I knew my story wouldn’t have much success anyway.

Making my way back upstairs, I heard a weird noise coming from my room. As I entered, I saw the strange girl standing there again. She pointed at the mirror and whispered: “be careful”.  And as I blinked, she disappeared again. Could I be really dreaming?

Two days later, I had almost forgotten about what happened. Everything was going great: I didn’t feel so ill anymore, my sister had been nice to me that morning and I just got the great news that our English teacher went on a journey, and we’d have the afternoon off!

Making my way back home, a pitch black bird flew over my head " I started thinking about the weird lady in my house... I recall her saying something about a mirror, and out of pure boredom I went to my room to check. My heart skipped a beat when I came to see that it was not me showed in the mirror, but my sister! She was with her back against the wall of my room. I quickly turned around to find no one standing there. Looking back into the mirror, I saw that a dozen of crows had joined her in my mirror. And more and more of those scary black birds flew inside and through the view, pecking at her It all went faster and faster, and I stood there. I could do nothing. I didn’t know how long it took. But after the crowd of birds had gone, I saw my sister lying there, in my room, on the floor. Again I turned around and nothing to be seen.

As I ran to my sister’s room, I found her there.

I was too late.

She was killed by imaginary birds in my mirror. And nobody would believe me.