wall to wall horror

A Story by vidya

a family moves into a new home without knowing its haunted but soon finds out when steve and his sister tiffany decides to investigate

From the day we moved into the old house on Millbury street, I felt like someone was watching us. It was nothing I could put my finger on. Just a feeling that came over me every now and then, especially when I was alone. Sometimes it happened while I was watching television in the living room. Suddenly I’d think my older brother, Steve, was trying to sneak up and scare me, a favorite trick of his. I’d turn around to catch him sneaking up on me but only he wouldn’t be there.

I never mentioned it to anybody. For sure mom and dad would think I was going nuts and I might have agreed. When I got the creepy-crawly feelings, I just tried to ignore it, this got a little harder though after dad laid the new carpet in the den of the living room. The den was a nice little room. Mom and dad had furnished it with a rocking chair and an over stuffed couch. Dad built some shelves beside the fireplace and mom added an old lamp. All in all, it was a cozy place, perfect for curling up with a good book except that I couldn’t stay in the room for more than a few minutes. The feeling that someone was watching me was just too strong.

I wasn’t the only one that was uncomfortable in there, either. It seemed like nobody ever stayed in the den for too long. Mom blamed it on the carpet, she complained about the disgusting stain that was right in the middle of the carpet. Dad complained about the floorboards that were loose and needed to be nailed down. We didn’t have much money to fix up the house and it needed a lot of work that’s why we’d been able to afford it in the first place. We knew that fixing it up would take a long time and we’d all have to pitch in, well Steve and I would have to pitch in, Cloyd who was four and Mindy who was one and a half were too young to do much but get in the way. There was lots to do, but replacing the ugly carpet in the den quickly moved to number one on everyone’s to do list. Mom found a nice rose colored carpet that was nearly the right size and dad trimmed and changed it in no less than an hour. He’d been right about the loose floorboards. He nailed down four of them. When we moved the furniture back into place, everyone agreed it looked great. The first thing I did was bring down some of my library books to add on the shelves beside the fireplace. I could hardly wait to curl up on the couch with “Monster blood”. surely now that the room looked so nice, it would feel nice too but boy was I wrong. I lasted ten minutes, then I couldn’t stand it any longer, it felt like behind every wall was an eye staring right at me. The next afternoon I tried again, no sooner had I settled down on the couch, the rocking chair started swaying gently back and fourth all by itself. I headed to the living room trying to convince myself that it must have been the wind.

The next morning I slept late. I was still rubbing sleep out of my eyes when I started to wonder downstairs around 11 o’clock that’s when I heard mom yelling. I flew down the last few steps and raced into the living room. Mom was standing in the doorway of the den. She then pointed to a stain on the carpet. I thought to myself how could the stain have come when mom and dad installed a new one. By this time dad and Steve entered the room, mom asked dad if he noticed anything different with the boards when he was nailing them down. But dad hadn’t seen a thing amiss. They weren’t oily or stained, just a little chipped around the edges in some places dad told mom. Dad then turned around and looked Steve in the eye “okay Steve not a bad trick. What did you use water, ill have your head and hands if you used something that would leave a mark.” said dad

“I didn’t do anything, dad” Steve stammered. Dad then turned to me and accused me, but I had nothing to do with it and dad realized that, our face expression told the truth. I watched Steve’s face he looked as baffled as I was. I was pretty sure he wasn’t the culprit__ but if he wasn’t the who was?

Mom decided that she wasn’t going to spend the rest of the weekend scrubbing a rug. She decided that she would hire a steam cleaner next week and do the bedrooms at the same time. Even then I had a feeling that steam cleaning wasn’t likely to be the answer. By Sunday night I knew id need Steve’s help. After dinner, I called him into the den, the rest of the family was in the living room watching Disney on television. “look can you see it?” I whispered, pointing to the rocking chair. “that’s weird its moving”

“keep your voice down, but you can see it too?” he nodded. That was a relief, because I was beginning to think I was having trouble in my head. I then showed Steve the stain on the carpet, it was growing and the boards have lifted again!

“what is this, Tiff, the horror zone or something? We better tell mom and dad” said Steve but I said and beside I had to know if he felt anything odd like I did, he admitted to the feeling but he also pointed out that there was nothing there because he had checked but it seemed as if it wanted to tell us something, whatever it was. Suddenly the rocking chair started moving again, more quickly this time. I grabbed Steve hands and held on tight but before anything else could happen, my library books, just mine tumbled off the shelf, landing on the floor with a loud thud. Steve stared at the messy pile of books and finally said “ok, so what do you suppose we could do?” the first thing I wanted to do was go upstairs, now that my thoughts were actually in words, my skin started to crawl. Upstairs I suggested that Steve ask his new friend Tony, for information about the people who had lived in the house before us. All I knew of the house was that the real estate agent told us that the owner of the house died of heart attack and that a nephew in new York, his only relative had arranged the sale through a lawyer. Tony had lived three houses away all his life, so he should know more than that “alright I’ll do it……but why ?”

“well” I began, trying to sound more confident than I felt, “because that’s a good place to start. In lots of stories I’ve read, a ghost, if that’s what it is, hangs around because it has unfinished business of some sort” I’d read piles of ghost stories, so I knew what I was talking about. I’d even done an English essay on a horror theme. But this was not a time reading, this was a time for doing something about what might be a genuine horror story with us as the main characters. The next evening at dinner I had the strangest feeling. It felt as if something were hovering over us, like a cloud but when I looked up at the ceiling, all I saw were a few cracks in the putty I was still staring when I realized dad was talking to me. “earth to tiffany”

“oh sorry I wasn’t paying attention”

“no kidding, I was just asking what you’ve been reading lately”

Dad was like hat he tried to ask each of us kids even Mindy a question at dinner. He said it was to keep the fine art of conversation alive. “are you still on that horror thing, or have you moved on to another thing?”

“I guess I’m still on it”

“well as long as you don’t start believing in these ghosts and monsters …….” dad never finished his sentence, suddenly he was on his feet, trying to shake the hot coffee that spilled into his lap. Mom, Steve and I jumped up at the same time, grabbing paper towels to wipe up the mess “sorry about that” dad said when things settled down. “I must’ve bumped it with my elbow” I know he hadn’t. his elbow was nowhere near his coffee mug. I sneaked another peek at the ceiling, nothing there. My hand shooked as I finished my tea.

The very next day dad and mom took cloyd and Mindy to grandma’s for a visit. I just hung around the house feeling nervous. Finally, I heard Steve come I from football practice, I was dying to hear what he’d found out from Tony. I raced down to the kitchen and sat at the table across from him while he gobbled down some warmed stew “so?” I asked expectantly “you may be onto something” he said between mouthfuls “I hate to think what though”

“so tell me, tell me!”

“their name were Patterson, and its true, Mr. Patterson died from heart attack, like the agent said but he’d been acting strange for a long time before that, talking to himself, keeping all the lights on at night. Sometimes he’d open the door and start yelling stuff like, keep away, leave me alone when no one was there. Everybody said he went crazy after his wife was declared dead.”

“declared dead, what do you mean?”

“Tony says she was reported missing about ten years ago. Just disappeared one day. He remembers his mother told someone that she probably left because Mr. Patterson was so grumpy all the time. The police searched all over and her picture was on television too but they never found a trace of her body, finally Mr. Patterson applied to have her declared dead. Everyone said it was so he could collect the insurance.” my stomach felt like it had hit the floor, I looked at Steve “are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“don’t say it” Steve answered grimly “maybe he just hid something of hers in there and she wants us to have it.”

“and maybe I’m really Madonna.” I said “seriously Steve, what should we do?”

Steve put down his empty glass and leaned back “well, we could forget all about it and ………” we both watched horrified, as his glass tipped over and started to roll across the table. I grabbed it as it reached the edge of the table and carefully set it upright. I then looked at Steve “I don’t think that’s an option” I said, Goosebumps had begun to spread up my legs and arms. He nodded “well then we could tell mom and dad that we think there’s….a ghost….under the carpet in the den. We both stared at the glass, it began to rock back and fourth “yeah we could do that but they will never believe us, maybe we could check it out ourselves.” I said quickly, again we looked at the glass. It quit moving and sat perfectly still, just like a glass is supposed to. Now I was sure I was on the right track. “look Steve” I was getting pretty excited as the words came tumbling out “you know how grandma hates us to leave when we visit, mom and dad won’t be home for hours so it’s the best chance we can get to check it out!” Steve looked at me hard, the way he does when I surprise him “you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“you scared?” I asked. I stopped talking and waited, I knew how to deal with Steve. He stared at the floor, his face twisted in a thoughtful frown when suddenly he pushed back his chair and stood up “okay, lets go. We better do it right now because if I think about it for five minutes I’m going to decide that we’re both crazy”

As we grabbed the rocking chair and carried it into the living room, Steve said, “you know there’s no basement under this house, Tiff. There might be nothing under there but dirt.” in ten minutes, the room was empty except for the new carpet. Steve and I got to work with a crowbar and a hammer, once we’d rolled up the carpet, the floorboards were exposed. “see,” I said pointing to the boards that were lifted again. “see how they’re loose. Dad really nailed them down too.” my voice echoed in the empty room, with every step we took, the floor creaked. A little light came in from the living room but most of the den was in shadows. Steve wedged the crowbar under one of the loose boards and leaned on it. I grabbed the hammer and pitched in, as we took the nail out of the old wood they seem to groan. Steve was breathing hard and I began to perspire, by time we’d free all four of the loosed boards, we knelt beside them, reluctant to take the next step. Steve’s voice trembled a little as he said “Tiff, we don’t have o do this to you know.” I looked at him, my heart pounding “yes, we do.” Steve just nodded. My hands trembled as we lifted the boards and set them aside. We stood at the opposite end of the long rectangular hole we’d made in the floor, staring into blackness, “wh …what do you see?” I couldn’t believe my voice sounded so small. “nothing”, said Steve “its too dark down there, hand me the flashlight” I couldn’t believe what I said next “no way this was my idea” I knelt beside the floor and flipped the switch on the flashlight.

Two inches from my nose, a skeletal; finger reached toward me, I screamed and jumped to my feet. Steve had been leaning over my shoulder and we both fell in a tangled heap. The flashlight rolled across the floor and came to rest at the edge of the hole, the thin beam of light revealed a skeleton, its right hand lay across its chest, palm up, as if it had been pushing against the floorboards. Everything happened pretty fast after that, mom and dad came home to find police cars in the driveway. The sight of police cars in the driveway already had mom and dad in a pretty bad state. The sight of Mrs. Patterson in the ground in the den didn’t help them feel any better. We spent the night at a hotel, compliments of the government. It took them a full day to finish at the house. We got a new carpet too, the old one was used for evidence. Mom and dad heard the whole story and Mrs. Patterson finally got a decent funeral service, dad had no problem going back to the house but it took mom a while to feel comfortable again. She kept asking me if I felt anything strange, I told her I didn’t which wasn’t the whole truth. I didn’t feel anything strange, but I do feel something, sometimes when I’m in the den, the rocking chair starts to rock, just a bit. Its as if someone was in it, someone who I’m sure is smiling. At one time Mrs. Patterson couldn’t leave, now I don’t think she wants to, I think she likes it here.