Go See Him

September 23, 2012
By Heather173 BRONZE, Randolph, Vermont
Heather173 BRONZE, Randolph, Vermont
1 article 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
"To a well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

~ Albus Dumbledore

The small room she was sitting in was dim; the only source of light came from the window in front of her. To her left was a twin sized bed left unmade and a cluttered wooden desk in the corner. The only other piece of furniture was the old rocking chair she was currently sitting in. The rocker produced a constant creak, creak, creak that filled up the otherwise quiet space. The walls themselves were completely wallpapered with yellow sticky notes, all telling her to do something or go somewhere or talk to someone. But she still never remembers and never fulfills the tasks. She glanced down at the pad of sticky paper in her hand. She had just written three words: “Go see Him.” Ripping the paper off the pad, she slammed it onto the rare blank space of wall to the right of the window. She stared at it for a few moments, thinking of Him. Of course, she will never ‘Go see Him.’ Even if she actually remembered, it was impossible. He was dead.
Just then she heard the faint sound of footsteps echoing down the hall outside the heavy door behind her.
Tap, tap, tap.
She turned to it in curiosity. Was it time for her medicine? Glancing at the clock propped on her desk (she couldn’t waste precious wall space for a clock) she saw that it wasn’t even noon yet. Deciding to ignore the footsteps she turned back to the window and stared out at the court yard four floors beneath her room. She liked staring out the window, especially that high up. She was able to see everything and everyone. At the moment, the only people in the yard were a short woman in white who looked sternly at the stumbling, drooling man with her. The footsteps seemed to be getting louder.
Tap, tap, tap.
She turned to the heavy metal door again and got up slowly from her chair.
Tap, tap, tap.
They were getting closer. For some reason, she was starting to get nervous. She walked up to the door hesitantly and tried the knob but, of course, it was locked. It’s always locked from the outside. She tried to peer through the tiny window with wire embedded in the glass, but to no avail: the halls were even darker than her room. She shook her head and sat back down to continue staring out the window when the footsteps suddenly stopped. The room went quiet. The ringing silence seemed even louder than the footsteps.
Bang, bang, bang.
Slow, loud knocks vibrated the metal door, making her jump. “W-who’s there?” Her voice sounded high and scared.
Bang, bang, bang.
More knocking, this time faster and louder.
Click, click, click.
The doorknob started turning back and forth. Her heart rate began to speed up, coinciding with the click, click, click of the knob. And then it stopped. Silence once more. She stared as the doorknob turned agonizingly slow. The door swung open and slammed into the wall, making her wince. A figure stood just inside the door, their face hidden by shadows. But she knew who it was in an instant; she recognized that old brown suit.
It was Him.
“Y-you’re back,” she said quietly. “Of course I am,” He said. His voice was gravelly and hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken for a long time. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come back?” He gave a low chuckle. “Don’t you remember?” She shook her head, “remember what?” Her voice broke on the last syllable. “Don’t you remember the night I died? The night you killed me?”
He stepped further into the room, revealing his face. His scalp was crushed in, shards of white bone sticking out the back of his head. His pale face and brown hair were covered in red, sticky blood and brain, dripping from the gaping hole. His dark eyes were bloodshot, one was hanging out its eye socket by a few strands of muscle. He grinned maliciously, showing her his chipped and yellowing teeth, also covered in blood. She screamed out in horror and started backing away from the monster. “You can’t run,” he said. “Not this time.”
He stumbled after her as she continued to back quickly away from him. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry!” He spit out a few bloody teeth. “Too little, too late.” She was about to turn around when she tripped over the rocking chair, flying back and breaking through the window behind her. She let out a guttural scream as she tried to grab hold of the wall, but all she held on to was a single sticky note as she fell through the opening and four stories down. Just as she was about to slam into the concrete sidewalk below she looked up at the sticky note fluttering after her, almost calmly. It said three words: “Go see Him.”
Above it she saw Him staring after her, his scream mixing with hers. Before she was crushed into the stone, she saw him leap out the broken window after her…

The author's comments:
This was a dream I had a while ago that I changed a little bit and turned into this story.

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