The Haunted Hairbrush

Under My Bed

I think my heart stops beating for a millisecond. "So...wha-sh-", I stutter, unable to comprehend the news. I take a deep breath and compose myself. It takes everything not to burst into tears.

"We knew this was coming. We have to get that hairbrush away from Kendra. No more research, no more stories, we'll just burn it". My voice shakes. I'll admit, I am curious about the hairbrush, it's past owners and everything, but I honestly don't see how it will help us. "How? How Cecily? She keeps it near her 24/7", Connor's voice has no hope in it.

"I don't know, we'll wrestle her if it comes to that", I reply in an exasperated tone. "Fine, whatever", he growls. The call ends. "Jeez", I mutter under my breath. Then the reality of the situation hits me and I scream into my pillow. A few unchecked tears run down my cheeks.

There's no way I'll be able to sleep, so I get up and drag myself downstairs and make a cup of coffee. I get out my laptop and look at the news. It's about that dead dog.

...animal experts and police officers, as well as some generous commoners, are searching the woods, attempting to find the cause of this unfortunate incident. The last time there was any sign of a wild animal in our humble town which would cause serious harm to others was 26 years ago, in 1991. There was a series of killings, mostly human and the source wasn't identified. Hopefully, whatever it was has not returned and this is a one-time thing.

I sigh and shut the laptop. It's probably just an exotic animal that some poachers brought here and it got loose, and now a bunch of people want the fame and praise they would receive from catching it. I drink the rest of the coffee in one gulp and put the cup in our tiny sink. Eh, I'll wash it tomorrow.

I suddenly hear something, it seems it's coming from upstairs. I run up the stairs to check on Granny. As I open the door to her room, it creaks, making my heart skip a beat. She's sleeping soundly. The noise must've been my imagination. Suddenly tired, I walk back to my room, planning to get some sleep.

If I'm going to sneak into my now-possessed-by-a-demon-hairbrush-best-friends house and destroy an evil spirit that currently resides within the hairbrush that said best friend possesses and is going to suck the soul out of, I need all the rest I can get. (A/N: I am perfectly aware that was a run on sentence. )

***

I trudge into my room with half-closed eyes. It's nearly pitch-black in there, the dim glow from the streetlights outside cast creepy shadows inside my room. My overly-imaginative mind begins to think about monsters hiding in my closet and under the bed...

Quit it, Cecily! I silently chide myself. I slowly walk to my bed when I abruptly see a shift in the shadows. My heart starts beating faster, I can't help it. It's just a phantasm, my rational mind thinks. But if you've ever read any books, you know how much more powerful the irrational mind is than the rational.

Forthwith, something from beneath my bed grabs my ankle. I scream.

***

With a swiftness that seems nearly inhumane, a person comes out from underneath the bed, jumps onto his/her feet and covers my mouth with their hand, all within a second of when my scream began. The intruder holds a knife against my throat and backs up so my back is against the window.

In the light coming through the window, I see the face of the trespasser. It's Kendra.

Her movements seem oddly jerky as if she's an old, rusted robot. Her eyes glisten with madness. "Don't even think about it", she hisses, removing her hand from my mouth. I take a deep breath, glad to be able to breathe freely again. Her hand-the one holding the dagger to my throat-is shaking horribly.

I can only hope she doesn't kill me. "I won't scream, if only because I am curious as to why you are here", I whisper. Her head, jerks back, then her whole body, shaking as if she's having a seizure. My eyes widen and I rush to her-now if I'm going to scream, it's going to be for her benefit.

"Kendra, Kendra, what's happening to you?!", I say, panicked, holding her shoulders. "I came t-", she's cut off, but for a moment there it seemed that she had regained her sanity. "You came to what? Kendra, stay with me!", I whisper-shout as she starts shaking again, desperate. The last couple of weeks have been torture, I want my best friend back.

Abruptly, the madness returns to her eyes and the shaking and jerking momentarily stop. Then she puts the knife back against my neck, cutting through my skin. And then she pulls it away again, groaning with the effort and manages to get three words out: "It means magic".

Then she opens the window and jumps out. I reach my arm out to grab her but it's too late. "NO!", I scream. Luckily, she lands in a bush and rolls off, running off in the direction of her house.

I collapse onto my bed. I would cry, but I have no tears to spare. I just feel empty. Kendra, the real Kendra, had just come back there for a second, and I'd lost her. I'd lost my best friend.