When you wake up in the middle of the Night
Do you believe in ghosts? If you do, do you think they mean harm? Ever had a paranormal experience? Check out my short story inspired on a story starter by the Daily Prompt app.
When
You Wake Up In The Middle Of The Night
They say that when you suddenly wake up in the
middle of the night, that’s because someone is there staring at you. I was only
six when Grandma Wendy told me this and I remember being petrified. Mom scolded
her every time I woke up in the middle of the night and, unable to control my
fear, I let it all out in a terrified scream. I’d scream and scream, my arm too
frightened to reach out for the lamp. Mom hated it and eventually forbade
Grandma to tell me these things. Why telling nonsense to a young child who
doesn’t know better?
‘But it is true, the sooner she knows the
better,’ Grandma Wendy would say shrugging her shoulders as if seeing ghosts
was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it was for her. ‘And, as you
know, it doesn’t mean they come back to hurt you. Most aren’t that bad.’
‘Oh, please. Just drop it,’ mom would say,
rolling her eyes and sighing.
As I grew up my fears vanished. Vanished up to
the point that I even forgot about these old wife tales. I attended school,
went to University, got a job, my life just went on without grandma or her
stories.
Until one day mom called me to the office, her
voice feeble.
‘She has passed, Grandma Wendy. The funeral is
the day after tomorrow.’
I didn’t react straight away to the news, the
reality took its time to sink in. We humans go through these funny phases
whereby as a child you adore your grandparents but as you enter adolescence,
grandparents become just old boring crones. As an adult I wasn’t close to her
either, maybe my unconscious mind didn’t want to hear her stories event though
I could swear I had really forgotten about them. I felt guilty though. For not
having been a close granddaughter, all thanks to unfounded fears. Or were they?
That night I slept with the TV on as if that stupid bright square could protect
me from unwanted visits.
The funeral day came quicker than I had
wanted. It was a family tradition too to kiss the dead’s forehead, something my
mom never forced me to do as a young child or even teen, but now that I was 36
I was supposed to.
I’ll never forget her lemon coloured, lifeless
face, her eyes closed, yet I could feel as I approached my lips to her forehead
that she was watching me somehow. I was quick, hardly touched her. I was
invaded by this irrational fear that she would suddenly wide-open her eyes and
grab me.
I still spent a couple of days with mom until
she felt strong enough again to be on her own. She was always very quiet, which
I associated to her pain. Until the day I left.
‘Don’t be scared if she visits you at night,’
she unexpectedly said as I kissed her goodbye and prepared to get in the car.
‘Sorry, mom?’
‘She loves you, she might want to see you.
Just don’t be scared. It’s been in our blood for generations, even if we try to
deny it or push it away.’
And she closed the door leaving me wondering
if her sadness was making her talk nonsense or if there was any truth in her
words.
I drove home slowly and as night time
approached I decided to put myself together. I was 36, for goodness sake. I was
too big to believe in ghost stories.
It was just after 2am when my eyes wide
opened. The stories came back, sweltering in my mind. My heart was galloping. A
chill went down my spine but just like when I was six, my hand was too scared
to reach out for the lamp. I took a deep breath. It was my imagination, highly
affected by Grandma’s recent death. I was very shaken, that was all. I gripped
my pillow tight and closed my eyes, hoping to fall back to sleep soon.
‘Hello, sweetheart. Don’t be afraid, I am ok.’
I jumped off my bed panting heavily. I didn’t
know if I had fallen asleep again and dreamed of her voice or if she had really
been there talking to me. I closed my eyes and as I pulled the blanket over my
back, her cold hand grabbed mine. The screamed died in my throat.
‘Shhh, sweetie. I’ve told you I mean no harm.’
________________________
Enjoyed this story? Check some of my previous horror stories:
Or have a go at my werewolf stories which I share every Full Moon:
Don't Go Out In The Woods At Night
Officer Brooks' Creepy Blue Eyes
Midnight Shift at the Zoology Museum
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