Haunted

Chapter 12 §

Six o' clock rolled around way too fast for my liking. I left the house at half past five, and told Zach I was going to the grocery store. I asked him to pick up Carson in a while, so he wouldn't want to come with me.

Thankfully, Zach let me borrow his car. I mean, the apartment isn't exactly walking distance. I just told him that I was really tired and didn't feel like walking. Really, that was all it took.

And so here I was, sitting in the parking lot of the old apartment, trying to work up the nerve to go inside, when there was a sharp knock on the window. I jumped.

It was Shanna. She continued tapping the window impatiently, and I fumbled for the unlock button.

She opened the door. "Let's go."

***

The lobby was strangely quiet. I followed Shanna to the lady at the desk, a young and very bored-looking girl. "Good evening," the woman said. "Can I help you?"

"We're here to look at room 408," Shanna replied.

"Really?" the woman asked, eyes widening with sudden interest. "Room 408?"

"What's so strange about room 408?" I wondered.

She shook her head and looked side to side, then leaned forward. "A man committed suicide there ten years ago. No one's moved in since. Some say it's cursed, or haunted. He had a little girl, too, and a pregnant wife. Nobody knows what happened to them."

I bit my lip, but thankfully Shanna spoke up. "Really? How interesting."

The woman nodded. "Still want to go up there?"

"Yes," said Shanna, and the lady handed her the key.

The apartment was all too familiar. I followed Shanna up the stairs, careful not to say or do anything. Shanna walked quickly, and I found myself struggling to keep up. When we reached room 408, I froze as Shanna slid the key into the lock, something I had seen way too often.

We stepped into the room. It was still small, still cold. There was a kitchen to our left, bare without our personal items like pots and pans. To our right was the living room, where there used to be a sofa and TV. Close to that was a door, where my room used to be. And directly across from us was something that had seemed to burn itself into my brain since I was seven.

The window.

Looking around the room, I saw the ghosts of my father and I, wrestling on the floor. And my mother, laughing, coffee in hand. I saw the ghost of my father, standing on the weak balcony railing, saw it snap, watched him fall.

I shuddered, folding my arms over my chest, and turned to Shanna. "Why did you bring me here?"

She, too, was staring at the closed window, her hand in her purse. "Do you remember seeing him?"

"Seeing him fall? Of course."

"No. Seeing him after he fell."

I stared at her, then spoke slowly. "No...You held me back, remember?"

She shook her head. "I was frozen to the spot. You saw something so horrible, at such a young age...your brain couldn't process it. So you remember me holding you back, like a good mother should have, but I didn't. You saw him."

I stood there for a moment, staring at her. But I could see it in her eyes-she wasn't lying. And then, suddenly, I remembered.

-----

Age 7

"Baby, I'll be fi-"

And then the railing snapped beneath his weight, and he fell. I screamed, and my pregnant mother came hurrying out. When she saw the broken rail, she froze, and screamed, and stayed like that as I rushed forward, placing my small hands on the part of the railing that wasn't broken, and looked out over the edge.