Scary & Freaky stories: The Paranormal World

A Cry For Help

Alyssa's cousin is obnoxious, and we try to ignore him as much as possible. Our slumber party was no exception; he was in the next room, making noises for no good reason. Alyssa and I exchanged glares and kept watching TV.

Six shows later, a shadow danced across the wall from behind us. I hit my fist down on my leg. "Is he seriously out of bed?"

Alyssa stood up and motioned for me to follow. Tiptoeing to see if we could catch him, we went to his room. But a quick glance inside showed that he was legitimately fast asleep, a small puddle of drool on the pillow next to his open mouth.

We looked at each other, and a little worm of fear began squirming in my stomach. Alyssa swallowed hard. "Okay...um...go turn on the TV. Louder. I have to go to the bathroom."

As I walked back down the suddenly dark hall, something moved in the kitchen. "Alyssa?" I called softly, hoping against hope that she was sneaking a forbidden snack.

My trembling hand reached around the corner and flicked on the kitchen light. As it flickered on, I saw that the room was empty.

"This isn't funny," I said. I couldn't name anyone because I didn't know who was pranking me.

Then a scream echoed from the bathroom. My heart leapt into my throat, and just as quickly I bolted to where Alyssa's distressed voice was coming from. She was huddled in the corner staring at the wall. I turned my eyes to the spot and saw the shadow of a small child outlined there.

No one else was there with us. I snagged her arm and yanked her out of her trance; the two of us made a dash to the living room, glancing behind us. The shadow was following us. As it drew closer, I felt my muscles seizing up, and soon was standing frozen in place.

It wasn't a shadow at all. It was a child, all right, a young boy in old-fashioned clothing with a look of pain on his face. He was whispering hoarsely, "Help me...help me!"

"Who are you? What do you want?" Alyssa cried, but the boy was suddenly gone.

I felt adrenaline rush through me, making my whole body tremble.

"They won't believe us," Alyssa said quietly, turning to look me in the eye.

She meant her parents, and I knew she was right. We were the superstitious ones, the ghost hunters at age five and curious about the spirit world ever since. My throat bobbed. "We have to use the computer."

Several hours of searching finally revealed that the property on which Alyssa's house was built was the scene of a murder: a young boy had been found with his throat cut, with no motives or suspects to track down the killer. Tenants of the houses built on the property had reported seeing a small child crying out for help.

Alyssa and I turned to each other. There was something mature about the way she straightened up and put out her hand.

"Sister pact. We find him and help him."

I nodded solemnly.