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The girl started to fall into a deep slumber, when suddenly the phone rang. The phone was downstairs but somehow the ringing came up the stairs, through her door, and spoke faintly in her ear. She was now awake. She got up from her bed to answer the phone. She walked into the hallway, searching for a source of light.
Locating none, she reached for the railing and guided herself down the stairs to the ringing phone. “Hello?” she answered. A man began to speak. His voice was like a breath of cold air that slid down her body causing goosebumps to form. She couldn’t take it so she hung up and rushed back upstairs.
She began to tremble as she laid there thinking about the voice on the phone. “That can't be. He's dead, how did he just call me?” she thought to herself. She began to become hysterical thinking about the call until she heard a loud noise coming from downstairs. At first the noise sounded like footsteps until it began to intensify and get closer.
Just as she ran and was about to slam the door, she suddenly stopped in front of it. She looked down fixing her gaze onto a pair of black shoes. She started to walk backwards while she began to look up. Before she knew it, she fell back finally placing her eyes on a person and screamed. “Who are you? What do you want?” The figure walked around her and sat on her bed.
“I came because you called for me” the person said.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she said while crying.
“I cannot do what has already been done.” She wanted to run but she was frozen with fear. She had never been so afraid in her life except for the time that tragic event occurred. “You see, this is not the first time we’ve met.”
“What do you mean? I don’t even know you,” she said.
“You do know me. Every tear, moment of sadness, every thought of him brings me to you,” the person said.
She thought her mind was playing tricks on her. “You think it’s all in your head but it’s not,” the person said.
“You’re not real,” she said. She walked over to her dresser grabbing a little orange bottle that had her name on it, with the word xanax on it. She opened the bottle and dropped a pill onto her hand. It was a white pill, a prescriptive abundance of temporary relaxation.
“That doesn’t actually work. Those little white lies in that bottle you have can’t make me go away forever,” the person said. The person walked over and whispered a name in her ear. A stream of tears came out as she began to sob.
“I was there when you cried because he hurt you, I was there when you started blaming yourself because he deprived you of your innocence, I was there when you grabbed the blade, I was there through the sleepless nights that were plagued by trauma, I am here now because you are hurting. Do you understand me now, Bella?” the person asked.
“How do you know my-” before she could finish her question the intruder got up.
“My time is running up for now. But just remember that I will be back,” it said while walking into the hallway. She tried to follow where the person went but she began to lose sight as it walked into the darkness and down the stairs. She walked downstairs and turned on the lights but no one was there and everything was still intact, no missing items, no broken glass or open doors. She turned the lights off and proceeded back upstairs. Walking into her room, she made sure her door was shut. She went to her bed and laid down. The girl started to fall into a deep slumber, when suddenly the phone rang. This time, she did not answer.