Where I Was Before You

1. 9th February 2018

Sometimes when I'm home alone and the unpredictable summer sky is dark and cloudy enough that the light that travels through the windows is a pale grey instead of a blistering yellow, I'm able to look up from my phone. Notice that I'm home alone, and have been for quite a while. 2 hours? 3?

It isn't silent, but it's just quiet. It's peaceful. I shut my phone off and leave it on the table, swapping it for the book I'm currently reading. I gently trace my fingers over the cover as I walk over to the couch closely seated at the window. I sit down and stare at my cat, curled up, sleeping beside me. I brush off the crumbs from the couch and rest my head softly on her back, letting her breath lift and drop my head out of time with her heartbeat, which I then matched my breath with. CJ was a tabby cat, and to call her overweight would be a slight understatement. Her white and camel brown fur always stuck up in different unruly directions, because she despised being groomed and would often whine when I attempted it. So I just let it be.

My attention was now more promptly focused on the sounds and movements around me, as my mind started to tune into the real world for a change. I managed to pick up a tiny creak coming from upstairs. The sound you expect to hear at the beginning of a very cliche horror movie. Of course, while most people being home alone would simply go upstairs and see what it was, I remained seated. My book still in hand, still using my shaggy cat as a pillow. My family and friends (at least the ones that I managed to keep) were more than well aware of my paranoia toward the paranormal, and I wasn't the only one in my home who believed there was a spirit present, my sister believed it was the angel spirit of my great grandmother, who loved my sister as if she were her firstborn child. Doors would open and close by themselves, I'd hear tapping on the windows and walls, and the day after we came back from her funeral, our old Microsoft computer background was changed to a picture of our family posed with my great nana. 3 white orbs surrounded us. You would understand if you have any knowledge of the paranormal why this would leave me feeling unsettled. I, however, sensed something a lot more sinister than my grandmothers' ghost. But now I just learned to ignore the creaks, bangs, moans, and taps. Integrating them as the houses regular settling noises. Although I never said it (at least I never said it anymore), I 100% believed there was something more in that house than our nana. But Kelsey would never have any of it.

When I heard a second creak upstairs, followed by a light thud and CJ turning her head to the part of the house making the noise, I finally decided to go check it out, with whatever false sense of courage I managed to gather at that moment. I armed myself (mostly for a sense of security, I didn't expect I would have to use it) with a kitchen knife and hid it in my jumper sleeve (yes I say jumper, not sweater, I'm Australian get off my back). Although CJ couldn't give two sh*ts about what was happening, I gave her a "Don't worry baby, nothing is gonna hurt you, mummy has it covered.". I watched her silently unimpressed expression until I reached stairway, for some reason my stomach dropped as I lifted my foot up the first step. 'It's literally nothing' I thought to myself over and over again. 'Stop getting so worked up over nothing.'. I reach the top stair, and as if my heart couldn't beat any faster, I overestimated the number of stairs there were, and almost fell back down after my foot fell through the empty space, realizing there was no extra step.

"SH*t.." I blurt out, louder than I meant to, realizing I'm still on the lookout for an intruder/murderer/specter in my house.

I figure out the creaks were coming from my room and bitting my lower lip, I awkwardly shuffle toward the open doorway of my bedroom. It was small, but it had an impressive amount of hiding places. I know this because of my tremendous amount of free time which I use to see where I can hide, if there, theoretically, was a break in. I know, I need friends alright forget I said anything.

I poke my head into my room, my hand fiercely gripping the knife handle, and listen. Another creak, and some shuffling of fabrics. At this point, my paranoia was going through the roof and I could barely control the volume of my breathing. I was such a drama queen back then, the slightest bit of social confrontation, whether it be making small talk with the customers at work, or investigating a possible break-in, made me want to cry. I take a stiff and small step into my messy room. This room is why I spend so much time on the couch looking through the window, it's messy, dark and frankly creepy atmosphere makes me nauseous sometimes. The only calming aspect of my room is the decor, the hundred of posters I've collected over the years of my favorite singers, comedians, actors, movies, tv shows, fictional characters and more. But of course, most of it was taken up by one exception four-party group. One amazingly talented and crazily attractive group of men. I may sound like a crazy fangirl right now, but if that's what I am I'm not ashamed. This group gives me so much, so much happiness, so much joy, so much admiration for the world around me. Can you blame me for taking my obsession a little overboard? Besides, it's not an unpopular fandom. I'm not apart of the furry fandom, whatever the f*** is going on there. No, all will be revealed in time, but for now, I'll keep my secrets to myself and you can keep yours to yourself, alright?

I can tell that the noises are coming from my closet (wow, a very original hiding place, murderer), and I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little intrigued as to what the actual f*** was going on. At least my curiosity replaced my fear to some degree. I now brought the kitchen knife out from my sleeve and walked slowly over to my closet (there is a lot of slow walking in this scene, can you tell that I'm nervous?). I take a very deep breath and place my shaky hand on the doorknob. I count to three in my head but mouth the words as I do so. I close my eyes and yank the closet doors open and immediately stumble back, prepared for anything. I see nothing, nothing in front of the clothes at least. I know there is something in there, and I know to find out I'll have to dig a bit deeper. So I pray to the god I don't believe in ('The Script' references already, this is gonna be a long story), and reach my hand toward the clothes I have hanging up. With one not so swift motion the clothes go flying to one side, and I can see the slightest outline of something. I move in closer and realize its a pair of eyes. But before I can even build up the courage to scream the closet specter whispers "Boo." I lose it. I swear I have never been that terrified in my entire life (well up until that point I hadn't been). Instead of running, the fear I had build up suddenly took my legs and I collapsed to the floor, curling up in the fetal position and screaming through my tears to not hurt me, please take whatever you want just leave me alone. All I could hear was a familiar, sickening, victorious laugh. Not a threatening laugh, no, more like a 'please stop I'm going to piss myself' kind of laugh. I rub my eyes and try to see clearly through my reddened, cloudy tear vision.

"W-what are y-you.?" I stutter, still entirely terrified. I don't really know what I was trying to say, but I thought it was important to speak up for myself at that point.

"Oh my GOD Macy, you are so f***ing fun to scare I swear it gets easier every time!" my murderer spluttered through her laughter. A sudden and unpleasant wave of realization washed over me, as I was now aware that I was not in any immediate danger after all. But someone was going to be very soon.

"YOU BI*CH!" I scream, quickly standing up. All fear now replaced with a red hot rage. Jesus Christ Kelsey, I can't have one day of peace around here can I?

"You should have seen your face Mace, oh it was priceless!" My annoying half-wit sister continued.

"I have to be at work in an hour! I have to do my makeup all f***ing over again!" I complained, honestly more relieved than mad at this point. I don't stay upset long. I'm just not the type of person to hold a grudge.

"Hey, it's not my fault you cried so much, most people just scream and fall over. My sister just happens to be the queen of theatre!" Kelsey monologues as she gracefully and innocently walks out of the room. I stand there, dumbfounded for a couple of seconds.

"Are you at least going to tell me what you were doing in my closet? I thought you left for work 2 hours ago?" I ask as I walk to the bathroom, to wipe off my panda bear mascara. I could hear Kel walk into her room and shuffle around for something. Ignoring my question for 10 seconds or so. I wasn't annoyed by this, because she did it all the time. It was an aggravating habit she inherited from our mother. It annoyed the hell out of everyone else but I was used to it. I ran a towel under some warm water and started to press it gently under my eyes and on my cheeks. Damn, and I looked good today as well. Kelsey waltzed into the bathroom, holding a small white envelope with a name messily scribbled on it in her right hand.