She Is in the House. A Story (First posted to my Steemit blog)

3 months ago

It was six twenty this morning when I got to see her; I was about to leave for work when I saw the new little girl again. The family moved in last week, I think; I can’t be sure, for I am not too fond of neighbors. Live and let live, you know.

She must be six, and as you may expect from a child her age, she likes to spend long hours in the front yard, playing with dolls, and also with what I had thought was an imaginary friend. The house looks just as creepy as before.

Picture of My Own

When I say I am not fond of neighbors, I mean it; I don’t even wave at them. I cannot recognize their faces out of their front yards; I don’t know their names or their pets. I was, in many ways, alone.

My name is Alfred Johnson, son of Micaela Martínez, La bruja (“the Witch”). My mother had warned me about stuff like this, but I decided she was crazy as soon as I turned sixteen and left the house. My father had left ten years before. He made the decision after he witnessed my teenage sister’s being possessed by an ancient spirit, who cursed him and promised to kill him if he didn’t leave the house right away. But that’s a different story. The point is I knew what she was.

It was early, and these days dawn takes a while before you see the street lit by morning sun. That was the moment, the last seconds of dawn. She was sitting down in the swing, looking pale and pensive; although shoeless, she was clean and well dressed. I knew I shouldn’t have looked at her, but I couldn’t help it. My mother warned me many times; she knew I could see them, and that’s why she tried to teach me. My weak, infantile mind found its way to block it.

Now she knows I saw her. Like the others, she’s desperate to find others who can see her, who can probably listen to what she want to say, answer her questions. The thing is they get mad when they realize you don’t have the answers they need. Why do the stay in between is a mystery, even for Micaela.

The girl is looking for her, but she’s nowhere to be found. I think my friend got lost. The girl speaks to me. I think she got confused and went into your house.

Link to the image

Thanks for reading.

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