Aftermath. Chapter six...



He had made his make-shift bed on the floor by Amy's side. Just having him there reassured her...


  He had made his makeshift bed on the floor by Amy's side. Just having him there reassured her: she thought she could face anything with him by her side.

  As we settled down for the night it was beginning to stir. This time it would pay Steve a visit in the small dark hours.

  Steve had eventually fallen to sleep, only to be forced awake by a voice that chilled him to the bone.

  "Geeet ...  ouuut ... "It spat, enraged. It had been a direct order. His eyes flew open. He was too frightened to move, too frightened to do anything. Stirring into the darkness, it came again."Get out..." It hissed with more rage and warning.  He didn't close his eyes again that night.

  The night Steve stayed in our room had angered it. The attacks on Amy started again, like some kind of punishment. A small red light would appear in the centre of the room before our very eyes. It remained static in structure. Bottles began to fall off the dressing table rolling to my side of the bed and then suddenly stopped. Scratching was heard on the wall behind my headboard, as if something was trying to get out. It was horrendous. My friends would listen to my stories in school. they would stare open-mouthed at the unfolding story. it sounded like that new film that had come out...The Exorcist...I had heard it was making people physically sick at the cinema. I wasn't allowed to watch it: I wasn't allowed to watch such graphic details. But yet I was living it.

  It was coming up to dinner time. Out of all of us I was the only one that went home for dinner. "Can we come ter your house?" Kate asked we can l 'ave a look at yer bedroom."

  They were taking everything in, looking at the posters on the walls and staring opened mouthed at the hole in the ceiling. The rosary beads caught their attention, they had never seen rosary beads before. They wanted to know which bed Amy slept in. "That one over there," I told them getting a fag from my school bag. "It's a weird room, innit?" Debbie observed. Her eyes were scrutinising every part, expecting to see a ghost materialise in front of her very eyes. No sooner were the words said the rosary beads flew off the handle, landing with such force they shattered in front of my feet...

  Holding the broken pieces in my hand, I couldn't help myself but say, "Yer bastard..." I was antagonising it with my words, making it more of an enemy. The room stood quiet, listening to my every word. I expected something to erupt from deep within, but the eerie silence was warning enough.

Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
There's more where that came from!