Grandmama's Mansion

Twisting The World I Once Lived

I woke up, chills shooting down my spine. My door was swaying open and closed, open and closed. I sat up in my bed, my teeth dug into my bottom lip. It hurt, but it served as a distraction, although I still didn't notice it all that much. I pulled the white, cotton covers up to my chin as I bravely surveyed the room. My nightlight was dimmer than usual. Not a good sign. I couldn't see much, but I heard creaking from the hallway. My door kept swaying, and I started to hear thuds from just outside my room.

I shuddered, sliding down underneath my covers. It was coming, the ghost that plagued my house. Thud. Thud! THUD! The steps were getting closer and louder, the ghost's feet hitting hard against the wooden floor, sending the sound of the impact echoing through my room. I was petrified, paralyzed beneath my soft, fabric shield. I tried to move into a ball, but my limbs just wouldn't move. It was actually quite agitating.

I thought if I could feel covered and surrounded, even by myself, it would be comforting. Like how people back up into corners. The walls surrounding them are comforting to them. I really didn't want to feel out in the open to the ghost, I wanted to feel safe and protected, although nothing I was doing really protected me. Nothing could.

The blanket started to sink in against my skin as I shot out a high-pitched, piercing scream through the house. I waited for my parents to run in my room as I felt three more indentions, two hands and two knees. The ghost was on top of me like a dog. My through hurt from the scream, but I didn't care about my throat at the time. Hell, I didn't care about anything other than the ghost.

But my parents never came. What was wrong? I was terrified, and yet my parents didn't react. I screamed again, this time louder, higher, and even more painful. Still no response. I felt like my parents didn't care. It felt like they left me alone, with the ghost, to get so scared I would die. Like this was some sick joke on me. If it were Halloween then okay, maybe I wouldn't kill them, but even if it was the day before, they would be dead for doing this to me. It was drastic, but I was terrified, and when I'm scared I think about the worst.

Then the blanket lifted off of my face. I could sense the being's face right up against mine, as I felt a moist, soft surface caress my mouth, leaving a cold liquid behind its repetitive trail. It was the creatures tongue.

It continued to lick my lips with no intent of giving up. For some reason I wasn't utterly disgusted. I mean, if a ghost is trying to make out with you, should you go into shock or something? I thought that would be my reaction. Something inside me liked it and then I found myself opening my mouth to it. What was I doing? Why was I kissing a ghost?

I didn't know what came over me. Its tongue moved around my mouth gently, almost romantically, but tasted like blood, which I enjoyed. I always enjoyed the taste of blood. I never craved it, but I didn't mind if some blood fell from a cut into my mouth occasionally. But I was definitely no vampire.

Then, I moved my own tongue. I felt absolutely mad! I was kissing a ghost. The ghost then moved its right hand onto my chest as I felt fingers underneath my shirt. It was lifted above my pale stomach, which I'm sure was covered in goose bumps.

I was confused how he was able to move my shirt from under the blanket, but then I noticed, based on the absence of soft cotton against my body, that it was somehow gone. I didn't know when it disappeared or how, and I didn't really care.

It was freezing. I had never been so cold in my life, and yet I didn't care. And why you might ask? Because I was making out with the one thing that caused the cold. I felt the ghosts hand on my stomach, its baby soft touch sliding up my body, ever so slowly. As it approached my chest, it's kissing lowered from my mouth onto my neck. I opened my eyes and saw blood all over my mouth.