Echoes in the Hallway

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My laugh echoes eerily through the empty hallway, bouncing off the empty white walls before fading. We’re going to have to raid a Hobby Lobby for some home décor. My boyfriend squeezes me around the waist, and I laugh again, and again my laugh echoes. Our first home together. Nothing fancy, just a small two-bedroom house right outside the city. After the events of last month, we needed this change.

“Okay.” I say with mock sternness. “Let’s get to work. These boxes won’t unpack themselves.” My boyfriend mock salutes me.

“Yes ma’am, sergeant ham!” He laughs. For a moment I pause, his laugh seems off, like somethings missing. I search his face for any sign that he’s mad or sad, something to indicate the strange feeling I just had. I see nothing but love and excitement. I brush off the moment and we get to work unpacking.

It’s dark out before we know it. Most of my boxes are unpacked, clothes put away on my side of the closet, my knickknacks put up safely on their little shelves. I plop down on our dark blue loveseat we bought from a thrift store the moment the house keys were in our hands. The rest of my boxes will have to wait until tomorrow.

“Thomas.” I yell down the hallway. As expected, his name echoes to a fade, and I grin a little. We are definitely making a Hobby Lobby trip tomorrow. Thomas doesn’t respond. “Thomas?” I listen for him rustling about the bedroom or maybe the bathroom, but I hear nothing. I lean up, trying to listen better. The house is silent. I stand up slowly, a weird feeling taking root in the pit of my stomach. “Thomas? Are you okay?” I call softly down the hallway. No response.

Slowly, I make my way down the empty hallway to the bedroom. It’s empty. I turn to check the bathroom, empty. My heart begins to thump, a slow panic begins to overtake me. I turn to leave the bedroom and stop cold in my tracks. All his boxes remain piled up against the wall where I put them first thing this morning, untouched, unpack. I stare at them, dumbfounded. We’d been unpacking for hours, how were his boxes still sitting here untouched? My heart beat even faster, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of my neck.

Slowly, I make my way back down the empty hallway to the living room. A familiar hollow feeling creeps up on me as I shuffle slowly back to the living room. I furrow my brows in confusion at the feeling, like I’ve been in this situation before. I round the corner and sitting on the couch, the couch I had just been sitting on, was Thomas, scrolling on his phone like I hadn’t just been calling out his name.

“Hey!” He says gleefully, seemingly unaware the panic attack he just nearly gave me. “I’m thinking pizza for dinner, how does that sound?” He asks, still unaware that I’m standing there, staring at him like I’d just seen a ghost.

2 / 3

“Yeah, sounds great.” I say completely devoid of any emotion. The hollow feeling won’t go away, like something bad is happening. What made it even worse was the feeling felt so incredibly familiar, like something at the back of my mind was scratching to be free, a memory trying desperately to be remembered.

“Kate? Are you okay?” Suddenly, the feeling dissipated and I was just a girlfriend standing in our brand-new living room in our brand-new house talking to my boyfriend about pizza for dinner. Like a fog lifting, I forget the last five bizarre minutes and plop down beside him.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Pizza sounds great! Want me to order?” He nods and returns to scrolling on his phone.

The pizza arrives quickly, and dinner goes by without incident. We toss out our paper plates, wipe down our new countertop, put the remaining pieces of pizza away and head to bed. The earlier hollow feeling was already such a distant memory, I didn’t even think about it once while drifting off to sleep.

My dreams were dark and muddled, faces were blurred and distorted, voices jumbled together and blended into one incoherent sound. I was walking down a dark hallway, my footsteps the only sound I heard aside from the muddle voices that came from all around me. Thomas’s shape took on a blurry form at the other end of the hallway. I tried to call his name, but no sound came from my mouth. I motioned to him, but he didn’t respond. His blurred-out eyes made them look like hollow holes, making me shudder. I tried to move faster towards him but the distance between us never closed.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart beating so fast I found it hard to catch my breath. I stared at the ceiling for what felt like eternity, willing my heartbeat to slow and my breathing to return to normal. Finally, when I feel calm enough, I look over at Thomas only to find his side of the bed empty. The pillow didn’t even look like it had been slept on. The hollow feeling came back instantly. Was something going to happen to Thomas? Is that why I keep feeling like something bad is happening? Like someone’s going to take him away from me.

The house sits in silence as I creep down the hallway, not even my footsteps make any noise. The house feels unnaturally cold and empty, making constant shivers run up my spine. I hadn’t looked at the time before getting up, but I could tell it was late in night. Why would he be up at this hour? Why did his pillow look like it hadn’t even been slept on? I know we went to bed together so what was happening?

I passed the living room, hoping to see him sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone as he sometimes did if he was struggling to sleep but the couch and living room both

3 / 3

were empty. I walked into the kitchen, hoping maybe he just had a hankering for a midnight snack. The kitchen stood empty in darkness and silence. A lump began to form in my throat. Where could he have gone? Had he been in the bathroom and I just didn’t see him? Was he back in bed?

I left the kitchen, giving it one more puzzled look. I walked slowly passed the living room, like suddenly I’d see him sitting in the corner or just standing there. I rounded the hall corner and froze. At the other end of the hall stood Thomas. The relief I was hoping for didn’t come, instead fear and anxiety flooded my veins. It resembled my dream far too much for my liking. He looked out of place somehow; I couldn’t put my finger on why, but it was like his silhouette didn’t belong in the hallway. In this house, I suddenly thought. What was happening?

“Thomas?” Even as a whisper my voice still echoed and faded down the hallway. Thomas didn’t move, only stood there standing like a distorted statue. I dared not move. Every fiber of my being screamed at me not to move. Through the shadows I saw a single tear roll down his cheek. Suddenly bright red splotches began to cover his white shirt. I stood at the other end of the hallway, watching in horror as, four, five, six splotches of red bloomed over his shirt. More tears came rushing from his eyes. He opened his mouth slowly but only silence could be heard. The memories of that event from last month came rushing back and it was me who began to cry.