Short Stories

The Supernatural Scream

“Well maybe you should just mind your own business!” screamed Sherman as he slammed his bedroom door.

“Just be normal for once and maybe I will!” Sarah exploded after him.

After her brother didn’t reply, her cheeks burned with red hit intensity. “Fine! Be that way!”

Sarah spun around and tromped down the stairs,her face the spitting image of demonic fury. Why does he have to be so stubborn, she asked herself as she yanked open the refrigerator door, clanking the glass jars and bottles in the shelves attached to the side against one another. As she looked around in there, she began to calm down, finally deciding to make herself some Pero, a drink that was almost like coffee, but not. She took out the glass jar filled with the fragrant powder from the kitchen cupboard and placed it on the white marble counter, bending down on her knees to open a different cupboard where her mother kept the pots.

She jumped when the front door was yanked open and slammed shut, making the nearby windows shudder.

She slowly got up and stared at the door. There was nothing to look at. Sarah resolved that it must have been Sherman leaving the house. She glanced at the clock on the stove and noted that she had a half-hour until her parents got home from their jobs at the grocery store up the street.

Without a second thought, she grabbed her thick leather jacket from its peg beside the door. It was one of four pegs, one for her mother, father, brother, and, of course, Sarah herself. She headed out the door, glancing around the front yard for Sherman. And there he was, already a good distance down the street, hunched against the chilly fall wind in his green hoodie.

Sarah bended her knees and began sprinting in a half-crouch behind him, already curious about her older brother’s intentions. Perhaps it would explain his desolate, isolated behavior he had taken on in the past couple of months. She kept a hundred or so yards behind him to remain omitted to his senses, but not losing track of him altogether.

Sarah was surprised when he turned into the golden-brown autumn forest that they lived a few blocks away from. By the time she caught up to the narrow pathway where he had entered the forest of brown-leafed birch trees, she could barely see the green hoodie through the leaves.

She stopped at the pathway. “Sherman!” she called desperately, “Come back!”

When there was no reply, Sarah took an uncertain step into the border of the forest. Still there was no answer. The forest itself was silent, not even the wind rustled the branches of the trees. She took a deep breath and tried to calm the anxiety that increased with every second of deafening silence. Her green eyes scanned through the leaves around her, the green of the hoodie nowhere in sight by now. A crack issued behind her and she spun around. She gasped and her heart skipped several beats. The road behind her was gone. There was only forest behind her now.

Sarah breathed deeply to calm herself. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation for all of this,” she told herself, reaching for the six-inch switchblade concealed in her right boot, “I just walked in too far, I’m sure that if I just retrace my steps back along the trail, I’ll get straight back to our street.” But inside, she knew that she was wrong, and outside, the path didn’t stretch on behind her like it should have. The path began at her feet and stretched on behind her, the way her brother had taken. She flicked out the switchblade and breathed in deeply, slowly turning around. Again, her heart stopped.

The path, which had previously curved and twisted into the forest, was now straight and it extended on past the horizon. Sarah’s heart began to beat faster and faster. This was obviously not a logical thing that she was dealing with. Again, she breathed in deeply. She could work this out if she just remained calm.