The Ghost in the Closet

Four Days After Her First Appearance

September 4th, 2010

I was gone most of the following day. I left the apartment early that morning, leaving everyone asleep in the small room we had shared.

I jokingly told a few people I ran into about the girl in the closet, and many of them were scared shitless after the completion of my story. I laughed, trying to shake it off, and besides, I was too busy to think about it very much. But as soon as I arrived back home, the stranger-than-fiction occurrences consumed my mind.

I found myself alone in my room attempting to work past my wandering attention span. I would continually stare off into space, thoroughly distracted from my work. It wasn't until I impulsively phoned my father that I realized how much She was affecting me.

I broke into tears--angry ones, as I was upset with myself for letting something shake my nerves so much--and told him about Her. He was genuinely concerned, of course, but was naturally unable to help. But he calmed me down a bit and I soon returned to my homework. Yet I still felt haunted by her presence--she repeatedly invaded my thoughts--but I tried to move on.

I tried talking to her again, wanting her to know that I was friendly despite my fright. I told her some things about myself and invited her to respond with the technique she had used last night on my door. Nothing happened. I suppose if it's only her hand in my room, it can only do so much. But the silence was as eerie as the scratches I had heard the previous night. So I turned on some music, but every song seemed to remind me of what was going on:

It's not meant to be like this // It's not what I planned at all // I don't want to feel like this.

I'm so tired of being here // Suppressed by all my childish fears // And if you had to leave // I wish that you would just leave // 'Cause your presence still lingers here // And it won't leave me alone.

Your face, it haunts // My once pleasant dreams // Your voice, it chased away // All the sanity in me.

I made one of the lyrics my Facebook status and decided to tuck in for the night. It had been a long, hard day, and I just wanted to sleep. I was too exhausted to care about Her any more today. I fell asleep.

Not for long though. Just like the previous night, I spent my time tossing and turning, searching wide-eyed for Her hand in the dark. It wasn't there. But still, I could not sleep. And at some ridiculous hour in the night, my phone went off. It was a text message from a professor I had met with earlier that day.

--You ok this evening?--

I paused, then responded in reference to something we had discussed in our meeting, as I assumed he was thinking on a professional level only. But he replied that he thought he sensed that I was shaken up about something and that my updated Facebook status confirmed his worries.

I paused again, slightly surprised. I already knew that he cared very much for his students, and he always said that he was there for us if we needed to talk. But even still, it was a pleasant surprise. And so we texted back and forth in the middle of the night; I told him about the girl.

--Are you able to sleep ok?--

I thought about it and realized my answer was no. It dawned on me that I hadn't slept through the night in quite a while. Since I had moved to this place, in fact. I was constantly waking up with the sensation that I had been dreaming, but I could never remember any of my dreams. And that was very unusual for me. I continued contemplating my time in our new apartment and confirmed that I had brushed off several strange occurrences, chalking them up to me being new with the area.

--How can I help?--

And I wished so much that he could help. But what could be done? What could anyone do?

--Could you move out?--

--All six of us?-- I replied. We'd been getting along well, and I didn't want to have to move all my stuff and settle in somewhere else. I deserved to be living here, surely.

My professor and I finally said good night, and I fought my way into my forgotten world of dreams.