Words of the Ceiling

February 26, 2008
By Stephanie Bradshaw, Mattawan, MI

While lying on my bed in my new room when I noticed the small drips on the ceiling seemed to form the word hello. I sat up thinking, how strange.

A couple days later while hanging things in the closet I found a box of chalk. On the box it read:
Put the chalk under your pillow
And use the chalk on the chalkboard
To talk to me.

What chalkboard, talk to who, and why would I put chalk under my pillow? Thoughts rushed through me mind. “Me who, me where, and what me?” I asked to who ever wrote the note on the box.

I threw myself on to the bed. Then in the same spot that it had read hello it now read, “I am here.”

I who, I a ghost, a spirit, the ceiling its self, or simply my imagination? I decided on my imagination. That is until it happened the third time.

I was lying on my bed reading my book when I looked up and saw more words on the ceiling spelling out, “Where did you go? Use the chalk I gave you.” What chalk? Oh yeah, the chalk in the closet. I rushed to the closet and grabbed the chalk. I put the chalk under my pillow. I would try it tonight. If it doesn’t work I would forget about the words and if it does it depends if I like it or not as to if I continue.

That night I lay awake in my bed a little worried about what might happen. The more I thought about it the more restless I got. I lay staring toward the ceiling as the clock struck one. I lay awake waiting, I lay awake staring in to the dark begging for sleep to take me, and as I lay awake tears run down my face in sleepless fear.

The next morning I was still awake. I pulled on some clothes and headed down stairs. As I approached the kitchen I became immediately alert. The bacon was sizzling on the stove while homemade cheesy ham omelets sat on the table. Light flickered through the window casting an ocean of gold across the floor. At one end of the table my dad sat reading the Sunday paper in front of a half eaten omelet. My mom put the bacon on a plate.

“Good morning sweetheart,” my mom said setting the bacon on the table. “Did something happen last night? I heard you come downstairs.”

“I just got thirsty that’s all,” I replied. I had really come down to get a plastic bag to put the chalk in, because it had gotten all crumbly. My mom gave me the I-don't-believe-you look.

When we came bake from church I went to my room. It didn’t feel right. I changed my clothes and forgot the feeling. I went downstairs and watched some TV.

When the news came on I went upstairs to my room. I heard a strange noise and creaked the door open a little bit at a time. I peaked in side, something was on the ceiling and it wasn’t words. I crept inside and stood on my bed. It was a lumpy green blob that kept drooling all over the ceiling. I reached up and touched it. It fell to my bed and scampered under my pillow. I lifted up my pillow to see the glob lying on the bag of chalk. I picked it up and threw it out my window. I returned to find no chalk just powder.

I went to sleep right away. I dreamed of a huge chalk board. It was old and green and on it read “What’s wrong, tell me.” I reached for a piece of chalk but with my touch it crumbled into powder. I reached for another and another but it always came out as powder. With only one piece of chalk left, I rubbed my hands in the powder and grabbed the chalk. It had worked! Then again it was powder. No chalk, no more chalk, none at all. I sifted the powder through my fingers as if it were the last handful of sand it the world. Details for effect: I put a hand on the chalkboard leaving a hand print of chalk. I lowered my head and then it hit me. I used the powder to write, “There is no more chalk.” Below it a sentence appeared it read:
“Do not worry, I will make you more chalk. But it might take me a little while.”

The next morning I searched everywhere for the new chalk. There wasn’t any. I looked under my pillow the powder was gone. No chalk lye in its place. I looked at the ceiling it was blank.

A few years pasted and my family moved to a smaller house. The family that moved in to the house had a daughter a few years younger that me named Nell.

Nell was lying on her bed when she noticed the ceiling said “Hello” on it. She sat up and saw a box of chalk in the closet.

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