There's that noise again.

Ever since Richard moved to his new house, he's heard that noise. It sounds like something is in the attic, or walking across the floor. He hates that noise. His family tells him it's all in his head. But Richard doesn't think so.

every night, the sound gets closer. And every night, Richard buries deeper under his blankets, like a small child afraid of the dark. But he's thirteen years old as of today. But Richard has a problem. Last night, the sound moved down the stairs. Because of that, that means the one making the sound will have to come into his room tonight.

too bad the house was designed with the attic door in Richards room.

thump.

Richard squeezes his eyes shut. 'Remember, it's all in your head,' he thinks, hearing his cousin's voice. It's nice that they all live so close together. It would be nicer if somebody believed Richard, though.

Thud.

It's about halfway down the stairs now. Richard can feel the tension in the air. His eyes stare at the attic door, so conveniently placed in his room, willing the infernal thing to stay closed.

bumpthud.

Another noise. Richard buries his head deeper into the sheets, hoping whatever it is isn't coming tonight.

thump.

He pulls the blankets over his ears, so he doesn't have to hear it any more. But Richard can still hear the stairs creaking and the occasional step or two. He contemplates panic, but decides against it. 'It's all in my head,' Richard tells himself. Another stair creaks. It's coming.

time seems to be moving too slow. Every second is like a day. Richard can hardly bear it. He might as well give himself up to whatever dark force is venturing down from the attic. another creak tells him the creature is almost to the door. He squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, and his fists clench under the camouflage sheets encasing his body. 'Thirteen must be bad luck,' he thinks.

This creak is too loud, too high pitched, to be another stair step. No, it's the attic door this time. Slowly, something seems to walk closer. 'maybe, even though it's in my room, maybe it can't reach my bed tonight,' Richard thinks hopefully.

Something is looming over his shoulder. He's too scared to turn and face the creature. Instead, every muscle in his body stiffens.

"Hello Richard," whispers a decidedly calm but unfamiliar voice. Richard can't help himself. He turns around.

There is a girl sitting on the edge of his bed. She is wearing a black silk dress, and she has a white ribbon in her black, curly hair. The girl smiles at Richard leisurely, as though she has all the time in the world.

"Congratulations on becoming a teenager," she says.

Richard can only blink in fear. Who is this girl? How does she know him? How does she know it's his birthday?

"Don't worry," says the girl calmly. "I won't hurt you." She gets up, off of the bed, and walks slowly across the room. When she reaches the door, she opens it with no hesitation.

"You'll see me again when you're thirteen times two."


The next day, Richards cousins came over. They didn't find Richard until about an hour after calling the police.

Richards parents and sister were dead. Richards father had been choked to death slowly. Richards Mother's body was drained of all it's blood. And Richards sister had been hung from the center of her room, and had half the blood in her body removed.

When they found Richard, he was sleeping peacefully, covered in blood.


There was that sound again. It was outside the door to a 26 year old Richard's white room, where he lay, confined in a straitjacket. The doorknob turned slowly, and the door opened. A familiar face, this time speaking with a familiar voice, smiled leisurely into the darkness at him.

"Hello Richard."

The next day, Richards was found dead, stabbed with every needle containing every chemical within seven meters of his room.


Well, there you have it. My first on this site. Please review. I love reviews!