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Static

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Tossing my backpack onto my bed, I ran through my after school agenda. My house was empty, and I decided to call my mom to tell her I was safely home. I walked around my bed and by the desk across from the foot of my bed. As I passed my desk I heard an odd noise. There was static coming from my computer-not the speakers or the monitor, but the actual CPU.
I stopped in my tracks, and began listening closely. Taking another glance at my computer, I reasoned with myself, “I couldn’t have heard anything. The computer’s unplugged. It’s just my imagination.” Besides, I didn’t have anything to set off such a reaction. No cell phone. No electronics, whatsoever. Just as I had brought up enough courage to move my feet toward the phone, I heard another sound. This time it was clearly static, like when you’re tuning into a radio station that’s just barely out of range. Could a computer pick up a radio station? Surely not. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t hear the static any less.

The static was steadily becoming clearer and, although it was still rather quiet, it was getting louder. Along with additional clarity and volume, the sound was more dimensional than I would have liked to notice. It wasn’t just a fuzzy static. There was someone talking, their words slurred and overpowered by the odd crackling. It was the most eerie experience of my life.
I felt rooted to the carpet of my bedroom floor. The phone! I needed to grab the phone, and get out of the house! Apparently just getting to the phone was much easier said than done!
My feet felt like lead in my shoes, and I couldn’t bend my legs. My brain was yelling, telling me to move, that the phone was just two steps and an arm’s length away, but my body was ignoring my brain.
All the while the fuzzy static was getting louder and more unnerving. The need to get out of the room was almost tangible. Then I realized it was just a sound, no matter how terrifying, and with that realization I turned away from the computer. In an instant I had found what little courage I had, and I crossed the room and grabbed the phone off of the bedside table. I was a lot closer to getting outside, but now I had to walk back around my bed and, once again, pass within inches of my computer desk.
The crackling had reduced in volume, now almost a whisper, but even though it had become quieter, the odd voice seemed even clearer now that it had little competition from the static. Although it was just a noise, it still gave me the creeps.
The distance between my bedroom door and I seemed longer than it ever had before.
Approximately fifteen feet had been stretched until it was nearly the size of a football field.
Instead of walking around my bed, I gave in. This was all very bizarre, after all. I jumped onto my bed’s comforter and walked across it, completely ignoring the desk that was still in the edge of my view. I hopped off of my bed and walked four giant steps to the door and then into the hall. Finally, I was out of my room. I felt much safer in the hall.
Pausing in the hallway, I clicked the phone on, and checked for a dial tone. When I heard the the dull hum on the line I silently thanked god that I had a working phone, and quickly dialed the number to my mom’s cell phone. At least now when my mother I asked if anything interesting had happened today I could answer with more than, “No. I just have a bunch of homework.”





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