Her face was like the sky on a dark and stormy night . . . ominous. Her eyes were unreadable, her expression clouded. A slow misty panic settled upon me. I uneasily questioned her about where I should sleep. She smiled and said it didn’t matter. Then she went on to say that her siblings would soon be arriving for a visit with their friends as they do every night.
As I was trying to discern the hidden message buried in her expression, my friend came stumbling out of one of the sitting rooms, drunk as hell and swaying every direction as she stumbled forward. Well, sort of forward. I felt a wave of relief wash over me that I wasn’t alone.
The hostess smiled, helped my friend over, and invited her to stay as well. Incoherently, she thanked her, and asked what she’d missed. She was a much worse drunk than I was. The hostess told her everything she’d just told me, and then the doorbell rang. The hostess smiled chillingly and said, “Oh, I forgot to warn you . . . weird things happen at night . . .”
As I was beginning to inquire as to what she meant by that, she told us to look out the small diamond-shaped window at the top of the door. She also said, “But I have to warn you not to scream.” She smiled again, but silenced any inquiries with a wave of her hand and a point of her long slender finger at the window.
My friend approached in a zigzagged line and stuck her face into the diamond. She staggered back, almost falling over, and leaned against the wall for support, her face so white I felt a shiver run all through me. Her eyes were as wide as I’d ever seen them, and she was breathing hard, holding in her scream.
The hostess looked at me expectantly. Slowly, reluctantly, I inched forward toward the door. I wished I was back in my fog, but with fear had come icy clarity. To my dread I had reached the door. Hesitatingly, painstakingly, I pushed my toes into the floor and lifted my heels. I reached the window with my eyes closed, and then I opened them.
Two faces were right in front of mine. A cold shock shot through me. There was a girl with what I’m sure were once blonde pigtails with little green ribbons in them, but now she was all blue and glowing like the moonlight. There was also a boy who I’m sure had short choppy brown hair, but now was also blue and radiant. Their faces were expressionless, but in their eyes was an icy cruelty I’d never seen before.
Naturally, I screamed. As soon as I had, the door opened and hundreds of ghosts flooded inside. I bolted toward the staircase, and started racing up. I heard my friend’s screams behind me, and they chilled my blood. I glanced back out of the corner of my eye, and saw a group around her, and I also saw that the hostess was now blue and luminous.
They started floating up the stairs after me, arms outstretched, eyes penetrating. I threw open the first door I could reach, ducked inside, and slammed it shut. I turned around, and saw, to my absolute horror, rows and rows of shelves lining the walls, and these shelves were filled with dolls. Dolls with creepy smiling faces everywhere I turned.
Glowing red eyes started popping open around me and illuminating the darkness. Dolls of all shapes and sizes hopped to the floor and meandered toward me. I flung open the door and ran out. The ghosts weren’t quite to the top of the stairs. I sped down the hall toward my goal—the door, the wood, the light. The only room with the light on.
I dove inside, slammed the door behind me, locked it, and looked around. The only thing I saw was light. It was so blindingly bright. I felt warm too. I could almost hear the light humming. Then I saw it. The rectangular link to the outside world.
I dashed across the room and opened it. I looked down. There was a vine! Green and healthy and strong. I climbed out of the room as I heard banging on the door. Down the treacherous path, dangling in the wind, I descended. When I got to the bottom and my feet were back on solid ground, I was facing the wall of glass and I could see inside the bottom of the staircase, clear as day. And some of the hundreds of ghosts who hadn’t gotten upstairs yet saw me.
As they changed course, I ran. And ran and ran, seeing nothing but a blur of colors tinted with blackness. Crunching gravel, rolling seas of blackened green, and out to the street. I sped off down the median and lifted my hand, extending my thumb, and waving frantically. I tried to hitch a ride with any passing car that would stop, but then I looked into the windows of the cars rushing past, and saw blue luminous figures in the driver’s seats. They all stopped and started getting out of their cars. The hundreds from the house got closer and closer.
I started running again, as fast as my legs would carry me. The cold night air chilled my lungs, making it hard to breathe, and I could see my breath among the blur of colors. I knew nothing but that I was running. It’s all I could do. All I could think.
I went for miles and miles, but they were everywhere. It was as if the entire world were ghosts except for me. I made it up the highway, and felt icy fingers grasp my shoulder . . .
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