The Richmond Haunting (COMPLETED)

Chapter 8:

'It's tormenting my dad.' I told him.

'Are you sure?'

'Listen.'

I gave the phone to Steven, who put it next to his ear, and he could hear my dad as well.

'Jesus, I've never heard your him like that before. What the —'

It must have been bad — because Steven was totally speechless, and I couldn't blame him. Even I could hear my dad screaming and yelling. My mum, trying to calm him down. And I wasn't even on the phone.

'See what I mean.'

'I do.' Steven said, giving me the phone back. 'Tell your mum; I'm on my way.'

I told my mum that Steven would be with her shortly.

'I'm sorry about all this, but it only happens when the girls go upstairs.' My mum said, apologising.

'It's not your fault, okay?'

Ending the phone call, I looked over at Steven.

'This can't go on.'

'I know, it can't. I know.'

'Why is it doing this? Why?'

'I don't know.' Steven said. 'I really don't know.'

And then he was gone.

Much later that evening, more ideas on how to get help were spoken.

'YouTube?' Fiona said, surprised.

She was sitting on the worktop in the kitchen with her legs swinging when Steven came up with the idea.

'Why not? Loads of people put stuff on YouTube. Why not put what's happening to us on there?'

Fiona didn't care for that idea, and it showed in the way she fiddled with her bottom lip, using her front teeth.

'I'm not sure; what about all the people who might watch it?'

'What about them?'

'They might not believe us?'

'Who cares? The only thing I care about is getting help, and that's it.'

'Well, how are we going to do it?'

'Do what?'

'YouTube. What else?'

'Simple.' Steven said. 'We get web cameras around the house, put them in the front room, the kitchen, and if they record anything worthwhile, we'll upload them.'

Fiona made an awkward face. 'I don't think it will work.'

'What makes you say that?'

'Because you're looking at hours of footage, something might happen, but it's all a matter of catching it.'

'We can cross that bridge when we get to it.'

'And then what? We sit and wait until somebody is willing to help?'

'Yeah.'

Doubt again came fluttering in Fiona's head.

'I'm still not sure. I'll mean, there's going to be dozens of people willing to help us. How will we know if we can trust them?'

Fiona had a good point; the internet was full of do-gooders, people, who seemed to have a thesaurus up their arses, usually found on Twitter.

Who could they really trust?

'I don't know; we might have to go with our gut instincts; anything has to be worth a shot.'

For a moment, silence hung in the air, then from the kitchen; a loud humming noise began as though there was a swarm of flies. The sound was insane, angry.

Fiona and Steven jerked their heads to the ceiling.

'What the fuck is that?'

'I don't know. Wait there.' Steven said, chasing his feet upstairs to Harmony's bedroom, where the droning sound was louder. More intense. It vibrated throughout his whole body, causing pins and needles to stab everywhere.

'It has to be a plane.' Steven thought.

But that was absurd, because no plane would fly so low over someone's house.

And now there was something else, a great force like being held underneath water trying to throw a punch. The unseen force kept him prisoner.

Steven tried to evade it, but it was impossible; it kept pushing and pushing like a wall on wheels driving up to him.

Back downstairs, Fiona couldn't hear Steven shouting. She could only hear the buzzing sound.

Not her husband, straining upstairs, the veins on his forehead popping out, the muscles in his neck looking as though they were ready to pop out, and then he was flat on his face. The invisible barrier was now gone.

Scrambling to his feet, Steven ran downstairs, seeing Fiona now with the girls.

'Dad, what's happening?' Katrina asked. Terror in her eyes.

'I don't know, but it's going to be okay.'

But his words meant nothing as the house suddenly went into a tantrum. Every door around the house opened and closed. The kitchen taps hissed out water, and a booming sound pounded on the walls.

Steven at once sheltered his family, protecting them from the terror, which grew louder as objects in the house — now began to shake.

The unit in the living room, thumbing up and down, shaking the picture frames on top, where they fell on the flat surface with a sharp cracking sound.

The T. V coming on, full blast, changing channels. Heavy footsteps ran up and down the stairs.

A man screamed, a woman screamed.

'Will you just stop?' Fiona screamed, and the ruckus did.