The Uninvited Guest

Mark had a sickening feeling hit his stomach when he approached his front door. It was slightly ajar. He immediately thought his house had been broken into. What if they were still inside? He stopped a meter away, contemplating the possibility that maybe Mrs. Norris next door would let him use the phone to call for help. He looked around and noticed his mum's car was parked under the car port, she was home early from work. Maybe mum just left the door open? With a bravery Mark never knew he had, he crept forward and craned his neck to look into the open doorway. Strangely, nothing looked out of place, the hallway was still the same as when he left for school that morning, a wave of fear crept over him– the house as very quiet, almost too quiet.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up suddenly and a chill ran down his spine – this didn't feel like house at all. There was a heaviness in the air. It was dull and ominous. He took a tentative step forward, not wanting to disturb the chilling silence. He quietly crept into the hallway – he could see his mum's keys hanging on the hall stand. He wasn't prepared to call out for her – he had this unnerving feeling that maybe there was someone else inside the house, someone who shouldn't be there. Mark could see the dust settle between the cracks of light from the window shades as the house was enveloped in a kind of darkness, one that was unsettling for four o'clock in the afternoon. He walked past the open living room doorway and could see everything was immaculate- there was no sign of a robbery. He glanced down the hallway, the kitchen door was partially closed, but it had a dodgy hinge and it never stayed open, it had been like that for years. Yet, this didn't offer his any reassurance that there was nothing to worry about.

He made his way to the staircase and looked up – the silence was deafening. His stomach was still churning and he couldn't shake this sense of foreboding. It felt like there was a haunting presence in the empty spaces around him – frightening, and overpowering. He lingered at the bottom of the staircase hesitant to move any further, he was trying to decide what to do next when he heard his mother's voice call him, 'Mark, Mark! Can you come here please?' he looked toward the voice, it sounded like it was coming from her bedroom. His apprehension melted all at once; a great wave of relief washed over him and he started up the staircase. He hadn't even made it to the third step when he suddenly stopped, frozen to the spot, he had heard his mother's voice again, this time a frightful hush from behind the gapping kitchen door 'Mark, don't go up there – I heard it too.'