The Scratch that Followed

I stared in horror at the boxes that I had to move in the empty bedroom that was supposedly mine. I felt so lost in an unfamiliar place that I had to live in for possibly the rest of my life. All of the heavy lifting was completed by my mother and I, so all I had to do was put the lighter things away. I began with the box filled with my books. I organized and placed them on my bookshelf. I stopped when I heard a sound.

It was a light scratching sound, and it was coming from my closet.

I walked over to the closet. Nothing should be making that sound; the closet was empty....I hoped. I opened the white double doors of the large wardrobe. The light was off. It was dark. And I saw nothing in there but the carpet floor and the hangers placed on the racks. The scratching could have come from the hangers clicking together. I looked up at the hangers. They were unmoving. Weird. I backed away from the closet, closing the door. I went back to placing the books on the bookshelf. Moments passed, then -

Scrrrch. Scrrrrrrch.

The scratching seemed louder and lengthier now. What. Was. That? The last time I checked, nothing was there. I was feeling a bit irritated. Maybe I was just tired from moving things all day with my mom. I walked over to the closet and opened the door.

Nothing.

"I don't have time for this," I muttered. I went back to unpacking my books.

Working in the quiet after hearing something in the closet unsettled me. I needed to get rid of that feeling. Headphones. I needed my headphones to hear noise among the eerie silence. I searched for where I put my bag and found it near the door to my room. I rummaged in the bag, found my headphones and put them on. I jolted upright when I felt someone...or something behind me. My head swiveled back to the closet. No one was there, and -

My stomach dropped. I thought I closed the door.

The door was ajar, the same way it was when I first checked it. Something was there. I was freaked out now. There was no way I could finish unpacking now; I had to know what was going on inside the closet. Was there an animal underneath the house or inside the walls? I thought I was going to lose my mind.

"Dinnertime!" my mom's voice rang from downstairs. I would have to check on this later.

My legs quickly moved down the stairs and into the living room. Waiting for me were my mother - and five boxes of pizza. I pumped my fists in the air and ran over. Finally, something that actually didn't make me feel miserable. Mom told me that she ordered the pizza since she didn't feel like cooking. She was busy arranging the kitchen and the dining room, putting things away and arranging - and rearranging - the living room. Once we retrieved our slices of pizza, we sat down on the couch together in front of the television.

"I know that this move is hard on you, sugar. Mom said sympathetically while a random drama show was on, "but as you know my sales job has forced me to relocate."

I understood why we had to move, but it made it unfair all the same. "I know," I replied solemnly. "I miss my friends back home. I'm not going to see them much, if ever."

"There's always phone calls. You can always make plans to visit." My mother looked at me reassuringly, but I still felt a pang of resentment. We had to leave everything behind for my mom's opportunity to get a higher position at the marketing and advertising job. But I could have stayed with Dad. And that's exactly what I told her. I saw a tinge of guilt in her eyes as she looked away from me, which made me regret bringing him up.

I thought it was a good idea at the time.

Mom ordered Hawaiian pizza, my favorite. I began devouring it and biting through the awkward silence with mom.Then I heard something faint behind the noise of the television, behind the conversation that my mother and I were having.

Scrch. Scrch.

My heart leapt to my throat and I almost choked on my pizza. My mother noticed and stood up. She walked toward me with an outstretched hand, ready to do a Heimlich maneuver. I looked up at her.

"I'm fine," I reassured her. She returned to her recliner. I quickly rose from my seat and tried to follow where the faint noise was coming from. I moved toward the door by the laundry room nearby. That was where the sound was coming from. That incessant scrrch, scrrch was going to drive me insane. I wonder if Mom could hear it. I opened the double doors to the closet one at a time. I couldn't take this anymore. There was nothing there but towels and shower rags.

I didn't even hear my mom walk towards me and ask if I was okay. I tried to mask the fear in my eyes, but I failed. She was going to totally think I was losing it. I pointed my thumb to the closet to emphasize what I was hearing. "Don't you hear that scratching noise? I've been hearing it since I've started unpacking my things."

"It's probably just the house settling," she tried to convince me, but something was just not right. I looked at her, shaking my head.

"Mom, something is inside the walls, I just know it," I tried to tell her.

She looked into my eyes and placed a hand on my cheek. "Sweetie, you're exhausted from all of the stress of moving. Finish your pizza, and then head straight upstairs to bed. Turn on the television if the noise is bothering you."

My night was restless. Every time I heard that noise, I kept checking the closet. There was nothing there. Until there was. I had completed setting up my bookshelf and began hanging up my clothes. I figured it was safe since there was nothing there causing the scratching. I was in the middle of hanging my winter coat up when I saw scratch marks on the wall. They were in multiple sets of three. I counted the marks. One set: one, two, three. Another set: one, two three. There were several, and they made deep lines on the wall, like something was trying to claw its way out. Did we have rats?

My mother raced up the stairs after I called her. I showed her the scratch marks; she said they were definitely rats. Something still didn't feel right about that assumption.

The exterminator came the very next day to check it out.

"We shouldn't have rats," Mom said, puzzled. “This is a new house.”

He shrugged. “If there is food or trash laying about, rats will stop at nothing to get in, new house or not.”

My mother and I left him to his work.

I had breakfast and dressed in my mother’s room. She reminded me that the bus was going to arrive in five minutes. I replied in kind and went to my mom’s bathroom to brush and style my wild curly hair. I heard a rattling noise directly in my ear. It sounded like someone exhaling their last breath. Blood felt like ice in my veins as I heard that noise and I stupidly checked behind me. Nothing.

I threw the brush on the counter and rushed downstairs and out of the door without saying goodbye to Mom.

My brain felt foggy and I felt as if I were drained of energy. I walked like a zombie to my locker, as if I were a spirit floating in a plane of existence. Suddenly, I saw a blur of someone with a pink backpack in front of me. It was too late to stop; I collided with them and fell backwards on the white linoleum floor. Oh god, I thought as I began to rise up. As I stood, I reached out a hand, helping the other student to their feet. We apologized abruptly and they asked if I was okay.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going,” they explained, “but you did have a dazed look on your face. Are you alright?” They studied me.

I looked at them sheepishly, putting one hand behind my head. “I guess I spaced out. I haven’t slept well. I just moved here.”

The student nodded and gave me a small smile that didn’t really make me feel any better. She rushed to her destination, wishing me a good first day. I muttered a “thanks” and made my way to my locker. I walked up to my assigned locker and began to turn the dial. Click, click.

Scrch. Scrrch. Scrrrrrrch.

It took me all I had not to scream out loud and jolt in fear. My heart felt like a vice was gripping it. The dial make quick successions of clocking against metal as I

frantically turned it. I opened it. There was nothing but cobwebs.

“What do you want from me?” I whispered, hoping no one could hear me except whatever entity was torturing me.

The day dragged on. I didn't really pay attention in my classes. It was like a haze that took its time drifting. Teachers droned on about the syllabus, about what was expected from them in the classroom. At lunch, a couple of girls introduced themselves then asked to sit with me. I let them, but I wasn’t the best company. I was worried about my sanity. They introduced themselves as Lena and Alyssa. Since I was the new girl, they wanted to welcome me. They had lived in this city for the majority of their lives, and knew the history of this place. My ears perked at this as I sat and ehewed the flavorless salad.

Then Lena asked, “What house do you live in?”

I covered my mouth while I chewed on another bite. “Why?”

“Some places around here have a dark history,” Alyssa chimed in.

I looked between the girls. “O…kay?" I replied slowly.

When I revealed where I lived, the girls looked at each other with expressions I couldn’t read.

“Definitely haunted,” they both said at the same time in a way that I didn’t like.

This was foolish. Was I really going to listen to a couple of weirdos who thought that ghosts were real? I was going to indulge them for a little while. I sat back and folded my arms. “Alright, I’ll bite.”

“You’re not the first to live in that house, and you certainly won’t be the last,” Lena began. “Me and Alyssa read the local news in the internet. It’s not quite a hot topic for everyone, but it’s a hobby for us. People move in, but they don’t stay for long. Something in that house spooked them. Every time. They claimed to hear noises inside the walls or see the face of a little girl on the walls, her face stuck i. An endless scream.”

I pictured a haunting image of a crying little girl in the wall, and ice rolled down my spine like a glacier. However, I kept my fear hidden.

Alyssa looked at me, grinning excitedly. “That house is a murder house. And the man who lived in that lived in the house went to trial for neglecting his eleven-year-old daughter. He is still imprisoned in this city’s jail as we speak.”

“Fascinating story,” I replied, pushing my tray aside. “Sounds like it’s played right out of a horror novel.”

“You think we’re lying?” Lena said, leaning towards me, her eyes wide in excitement. It was a little bit unnerving to see that expression on her face.

The day finally came to an end, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Alyssa and Lena’s story. I hated to admit it, but it did creep me out. I rode the bus on the way home, looking out at the window as the city scanned by in a blur. I reflected on the day. I had managed to make two friends in a weird way; we decided to meet at the same spot at lunchtime. I knew I was going to have a difficult time in history because my teacher was strict on his rubric for essays. He used to be a college professor.

And I was going to arrive in a possibly haunted house.

I unlocked the door with my keys. Mon wasn’t home. She was possibly working late on a project. I threw my bag on the sofa in the living room and turned on the television. I flipped the channels until I landed on something that I wanted to watch. I was moments into the isekai harem anime drama when I heard The very same noise that I heard when I first moved here. It was the sound one makes when one exhales and it comes out croaking and choppy. Fear turned into anger. I was tired of feeling ice on my back every time I heard a noise that scared me. I wasn’t going to let fear win. So wine was definitely in my house. I had read about people who lived in others homes without their knowledge or consent; maybe it was an intruder.

I looked around the house for a weapon, something that wasn’t too violent but made a point. No one was going to catch me unawares. I found one of my rugby bats randomly leaning against a wall. The same scratching noise appeared, accompanied by the choppy, guttural exhale. I should have called my mother and told her that I felt there was an intruder in the house. But she wouldn’t believe me. The death rattle sounds continued. I reached the towel closet and opened it with one hand while holding the bat steady in the other.

"You found me..."

A pale face of a little girl stared at me with wide, white eyes with no pupils. The ghost - or whatever it was - had long dark hair, but it wasn't covering her face like those demons in the horror movies. No, I could see her gaunt features, and her body was twisted in an unnatural way, laying on one of the empty shelves of the towel rack. Her limbs were bent at odd angles; her feet were backwards, and her arms were just...wrong. Her hair lay limp like a black river of death.

I. Bolted.

My mom came home to me in hysterics, clutching on to her and not letting go. She had to call my father to come and pick me up that very same night. He only lived a couple of hours away. I didn't want to wait but I had no choice.

Anything as long as I was away from that creepy house.