Haunting

The wooden floorboard creak, almost moaning, beneath my feet. Somewhere a siren cries in the distant night. My fingers graze the wall, the moon breaks through the drawn curtains, almost winning the fight against the dark.

The hallway feels strangely familiar, but I can’t place it in my troubled thoughts. My feet slows, around a bend, my mind screaming to turn and run, but I am mesmerized, by the darkness, by the night.

A muffled cry, almost pleading, breaking, it’s only now that I see the small figure, hunched against the window, the wind blowing the curtains, just barely, as to show me a face.  

A little boy, barely six years old, clearly hurt. The window, transforms into a mirror as I look up, a vision of my face, tears streaming down.

I try to help the boy, but angry footsteps, cowering down the hall �" a man’s scream. It’s only then that I realize that the boy can’t see me, can’t hear.

I look up into mirror again, my face transforming into that of the boy’s. Blood streaming down my face, before everything is devoured by the dark.