The Thing

January 5, 2010
By Kelsey Schindl BRONZE, Manitowoc, Wisconsin
Kelsey Schindl BRONZE, Manitowoc, Wisconsin
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Tears streaked down my face as I ran. I was running, faster than before, flying across the rain soaked ground. The sky flashed and thunder boomed and my side ached, but I couldn’t stop because I was running. Running for my life. What was behind me was terrible unstoppable and gaining on me. Why they wanted me, I still don’t know. No one could ever explain to me why this was happening. The only person who could was dead. The only person who could was my mother.

It had all started on a night like this. With the rain and the thunder. Our run-down, old cottage couldn’t take much more when there was a knock on the door. My mother instantly froze. No one ever came to our house, so it was odd, but I was frightened by the look on her face. She was terrified, scared for her life and mine. She told me to run. She said get away from here. I started to leave. I looked back and saw she wasn’t coming. When I looked back, I saw the door shake. Something was coming. Something sinister. Something that wasn’t going to stop until it got what it wanted.

The door shook again with the force of the blows. I was scared. I hid under the table and hoped what was there would go away, but it didn’t. It kept coming at the door, hitting it again and again until the door fell in. And what was standing in the doorway was the most menacing thing ever.

I shivered under the table as the menace stood in the doorway. There was no other way to describe what it was. A menace. A horrible, terrible, frighteningly deadly menace. I didn’t understand what was going on, why was this horrible thing here at my door. There was nothing special about me or my mother. So why was this monstrosity here?

A million questions flashed through my head as the beast in my doorway approached my mother. She was scared, but she stood her ground. The reaper like thing opened its mouth and when it spoke it was in a deep, almost friendly voice, that was as smooth as silk, and as comforting as my mother’s arms. It called to her by name.

“Isabel, you’ve been gone for so long.” Its tone was light, but the words were the scary part. “Where’s your pretty little daughter, Isabel?” My mom stiffened.

In a forced tone she replied, “What daughter?”

“Oh you know exactly who I’m talking about,” The wraith chanted. “Michelle. Isn’t that her name? Yes we know all about her,” The creature added when he saw my mother’s face. The demon chuckled a warm laugh and then said, “Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to find her.” I froze and my breath caught in my chest. This, this thing would find me, and I would surely be dead.

“Come out; come out wherever you are Michelle. Don’t you want to come out and meet your mommy’s old friend?” My hands trembled as I covered my ears. If I heard any more, I would surely scream, but the voice, the warm sweet voice still echoed in my head.

“Hiding won’t do you any good Michelle. I’ll find you.” The sinister being approached the kitchen, gliding its way down the hall. I sucked in a lungful of air. I was going to scream. I was going to scream and run and hope I could get away, because I couldn’t stand this horrible satanic thing that was coming towards me.

It was close now, too close. I could smell it and it smelled like death. It was a horrible stench, like a thousand tortured souls, like rotting flesh, like pain. It was horrible; I was going to be sick. It was right there, I knew it had found me and now there was no escape.

Then it all happened so suddenly I couldn’t take it in at first. My mother, my mother had come running at this devil. It was insane, I just stared I couldn’t believe what she was doing. Now I realize that if I had been a bit faster then maybe she would have made it out too. If I wasn’t so stupid things would have been different, because while she charged the thing I just sat there. I did nothing while she risked her life for me. Isabel went running at the incubus. I stared dumbfounded. My mother realized that I was still under the table.

“Go!” she screamed. “Run.”

But I couldn’t. I was frozen in shock. And what happened next shocked me even more because when my mother turned to yell at me, she was momentarily defenseless and the demon took advantage of it. Its fist somehow went straight through her stomach and where his skin touched hers, it was blackened. Then it spread from her stomach - the blackness spread across her whole body. Charring her skin and killing her. It spread until finally all that was left of her was an old withered corpse.

I screamed and screamed as I watched this. My mother, my poor mother. It was horrible; I can remember it so clearly. I remember the pain in her eyes while it spread, and I remember watching the light leave her eyes, and I remember how her broken body fell to the floor. The thing I remember the best though is how the deadly being looked at me, how it smiled and stepped over Isabel’s dead body, walking towards me.

And then I ran. I bolted from under the table, out of the kitchen, into the hall, and over our broken front door. I sprinted down the road not looking back. I had to get away, far away, where the thing couldn’t get me and where I could grieve for my mother in peace.

I couldn’t believe she was gone. She was always so strong, not scared of anything. She was amazing, the only thing I had in this world. Now I was alone, all alone and on the run. The feeling of hopelessness consumed me and I had to stop. I collapsed onto the ground, I had run so far. I crawled into the forest on the side of the road.

Tears were running down my face hot, thick, and fast. I could hardly see, but from what I could make out the monster hadn’t followed me. I was relieved. I had made it this far, but I knew tomorrow I would be on the run again. Maybe I would be for the rest of my life. Always running, trying to escape. Forever being hunted like prey, like a game of cat and mouse. What a sad thought. And that thought was the last thing that went through my head before I passed out.


I woke with a start from the same dream I have every night. Not really a dream, but a memory. A horrible memory and the only memory I have since I started this new life. I tried to sit upright, but I was stuck, forever trapped in this cold, white room. I wanted to get out, I wanted to get revenge on the beast or die trying, because I can’t stand this life I live another day.

Happy Dale Mental Facility

“What is she, Houdini?” A doctor murmured to himself. “She keeps getting out of the dang straitjacket.”

“I’m not sure what’s wrong with her, She keeps ranting on and on about this thing.” Another doctor whispered to one of his colleagues. “Usually this level of mental instability only comes from traumatic shock.”

“Maybe the shock came from watching her mother commit suicide.” The colleague replied. “Or maybe it’s hereditary, her mother was mentally unstable too.”

“Did you ever wonder if maybe she’s not all that crazy?” A timid nurse asked. “What if this thing is out there and her mother didn’t really commit suicide. Didn’t you ever wonder if this traumatic shock you talk about is actually from this thing?

“Not possible.” One doctor said.

“No way.” Said another.

“How could you even think such things,” The third one replied. But inside, each and every doctor was thinking the same thing; what if the nurse is right, and this thing really is out there?

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