From Stories to Reality [1]

Chapter 2

Clara moaned, her head hurt so much. She slowly opened her eyes. Someone was there. Clara couldn't do anything, she was too shocked to move or even say something. Right in front of her was standing a man. The only thing Clara could do was to stare at him. Tall, the man was almost entirely burned, and yet she had no idea of who he was. He didn't seem to want to hurt Clara and so she began to ask for mercy. But the man turned her back to her, looking at the wall where her books were.

"If you want anything, take it!" she screamed.

She search with her eyes her phone, but this one was in pieces, smashed against the wall. Clara looked around her, searching for something she could use to defend herself. On her right, her bad had been completely destroyed but this made her capable to use an iron bar. She tried to take it as discreetly as she could. Once she had it in her hand, she looked up and saw the man, closer to her and angry.

The man's jaws were contracted. His breath was cold, even freazing but his shoulders were not moving from breathing. Clara realized her eyes were white, like a blind person, and yet he was staring at her.

He did not move nor said anything but Clara's throat was being struggled. With her free hand, she tried to get rid off what was struggling her but nothing was around neck. The man's eyes were fixed on Clara. The right corner of his lips rose up, forming an half smile on his burned face. His expression was only evil, and the fact he would say nothing made him seem even more evil.

Clara tried to get some air, to beg, but she kept the little air she'd got to stay awake and not fall inconcious in the hand of this psychopath. Her vision began to blur, she could feel her brain begging for oxygen. She felt something moving in her back. She was trying to figure out what it was when she saw the fave of the man in front of hers. A few seconds earlier, she was on the floor, her head at the high as his knees, now she the same high as his. She tried to move her feet but she could not feel the floor below them. Clara took a deep breath to look down, her feet were floating about thirty centimeters above the floor.

"He's going to kill me..." she thought. She was getting less and less oxygen due to the strangulation. Her mother would find her lying on her bedroom's floor, pale and cold, dead. She's wish she'd told her she loved her. Clara was imaginating the worst. She had almost lost hope but in her last blink, she saw the iron bar she was still holding. She was holding it so tight her hand hurt, but her throat's pain covered it.

She had one breath left. Clara gathered all the strength she had left in her right arm and took her last breath. What she did seemed to her to last an hour, maybe two or three. She rose the bar she was holding up and aimed the man's head. He was enjoying Clara's pain so much, he didn't see it coming. In a second, the iron bar reached the man's head.

But his reaction was not the one expected. He normally would have been hit on his head either making him more angry or knocking out. But none of this happened. Just before the bar hit the man's head, he saw it. But he knew it was too late and anger took the place of the smile on his face. The bar hit him.

Clara felt on the floor, right where she was before being lifted. Her throat was free. She breathed deeply but those breathes were painful. She reached her neck and could feel the pain but no strangulation marks. Her sight came back as she breathed back. She wanted to stand up, kick the man and beat him up with the iron bar.

Clara looked where he should have fall but nothing was to be seen but her room's mess. Where'd he gone? He couldn't have gone anywhere. Clara stood up slowly, moaning because of the pain running through her spine. She fell both time on her back, nothing seemed to be broken but it hurt like hell. Once she was up, she sighted, tired of all of this. She search for tracks of the man, but she could see nothing.

Clara was still holding her iron bar, in case the man was hidden and come back to attack her. Now she had made him go away once, she knew she could do it twice, even if she was scared like she'd never been before.

Unconsciously, she was waiting for the cold breeze in her neck. She knew it would mean he's here. Clara waited, in fear, a few minutes, ready to attack back. But what was in reality a few minutes seemed to be for her a few hours. Fear had made time pass slower and this would only make her even more afraid. And then she felt it. Clara recognize the sensation of the cold breath on her neck.

Clara knew she had little time before he'd attack her. She turned around and faced the man. It was not anger she could see on his face anymore but rage. He didn't attack on the moment, he wanted to let her have hope she could escape him, and so he waited a few seconds thinking she would try to run away. Big mistake. Clara had still the iron bar, hidden in her back. She didn't waited. As soon as she saw his face full of rage, she held the bar and hit him again. And now she understood why he didn't fell on the floor the first time.

The man had vaporized. It was impossible to believe it and yet Clara had to. When the iron bar hit he man, he disappeared in the thin air. Too afraid, Clara didn't move an inch. What had just happened in front of her was not natural. It was somehow supernatural. Supernatural. The word stayed stuck in her head. She closed her eyes, trying to assure herself non of this was real. But it was. She turned around, took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

She saw the books on her bookshelf. Supernatural. If what was happening was true and not a nightmare, they had the answers to get rid of that man. Or apparently a ghost, if she'd compared him to what she read. Still holding the iron bar -in case the man/ghost would come back- she picked up some of her books, the ones with ghosts in the story. Clara ran to her mother's room, picked up her laptop and ran to the kitchen.

She needed help and there was only one person who knew how to help her. And she needed salt.

~~~~~~~~

This chapter is shorter than the first one, sorry 'bout that, though it took me hell of a time to write it. I tried to describe as much as I could what Clara was going through. I know putting the action directly in chapter 2 is not the brightest thing to do, but the ghost is there for a purpose and is not the main thing, you'll understand later ^^

Have a nice day,

Diane :)