Superbly Scary Short Stories To Tell With The Lights On

Home Sweet Home Part One

                Drumming my fingertips on the steering wheel I struggled to see through the torrent of snow and ice pelting my windshield. Tapping the breaks lightly and feeling myself start to slide I took a shaky breath, seriously regretting my decision of not just going home with my girlfriend for the holidays.

I could have been on a beach in Florida, drinking fruity alcoholic drinks, tanning my pasty pale skin and enjoying the company of the girl I was more than curtain I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. But no, instead I was driving down some crappy mountain road, my gas tank low, my spirits lower and my wits, at their end.

Suddenly my phone began to ring. Cursing under my breath I pressed the button on the steering wheel which answered the call, filling the otherwise eerily silent car with the pleasant and familiar voice of Clair, my girlfriend.

“Hey babe,” I said in way of greeting, “I can’t really I talk, I need to keep my eyes on the road but what’s up?”

“Niall?” she whispered.

Confused, I turned up the volume on the call.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded, “I can’t really hear you, you’re going to have to speak up.”

“Sorry,” she laughed nervously, “My family is sleeping I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, “What do you want to tell me?”

“Where are you going again?” she questioned.

“Home.” I laughed.

“No, I know, what’s the name of the town?” she sighed.

“Limnic.” I answered, struggling to see the road infront of me.

“Limnic Minnesota?”

“That’s it.”

“Niall,” she said quietly, “I looked it up, I know.”

“You know what?” I asked.

“That’s you’re cheating on me.” She choked out.

“Whoah, whoa, whoa what?” I cried, “I would never, I love you, why would you even think that?”

“You can cut the act Niall, I know!” she sobbed.

“What act?” I demanded, starting to become more than a little ticked off.

“There is no Limnic.” She spat.

“What do you mean there’s no Limnic?” I laughed, “I live the….”

“Just stop!” she cried, “Stop lying! I looked it up and there’s no such place.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I shouted.

“We’re done.” She spat, “Don’t call me, have fun wherever the hell you’re going.”

“Claire!” I pleaded, but I was too late, she hung up on me.

Letting out a few choice words, I ended the call and turned my attention, my mind spinning. Maybe she had spelled it wrong, yeah, that was it. She probably just spelled it wrong, and we would laugh about this later. I would text her when I got to the house, send her a picture of my family and I, the welcome to Limnic sign like a mile from our house and this whole mess would blow over.

Chuckling a little to myself I turned on the radio filling the car with staticy Christmas music. Humming along quietly, the rest of the ride seemed to fly by after that.

Turning off the relatively deserted highway and on to the empty dirt road that cut through my small home town, I looked out for familiar cars and faces, however aw no one. Figuring that everyone was boarded up in their houses away from the storm I turned into my driveway and killed the engine.