"What the hell happened here..."
Clara tried to open wider her bedroom's but it seems to be stuck. Seeing she couldn't manage to get into her room worried her. The cat couldn't have made fall something that big!
Clara took a run up and tried to kick the door open. But she only managed to hurt her shoulder. Thought the door had moved a little, giving her enough place to pass between the door and the wall. Her foot met something sharp as she walked in the room. She put her foot next to it and picked the thing up. She tried to see what it was in the dark and it seemed to be a piece of broken glass.
She tried to switch on the light but it wouldn't work. Clara stepped out of the room to get a torch. She knew there was one in her mother's room, on her nightstand. The teenage girl hurried to get the torch, she was not feeling comfortable about all of this. Though, once she found herself in front of her bedroom's door once more, she didn't know what to do. Should she get in? What if there was someone in there? She lighted her torch and held her smartphone in her hand, ready to call the police if needed to.
The ray of light scanned half of the room, making Clara able to see the mess her room was in. She took a step forward into her room and scanned the other half with her torch. No one was to be seen but her room was a real disaster.
The window and her mirror were in pieces, all over the floor. Her wardrobe had fallen and all her clothes were thrown away. The bed was upside down and every poster had been ripped off the wall. The only thing that remained was her bookshelf, though the books were not on it anymore but on the floor.
Seeing the mess her room was in had made Clara upset, but seeing her books thrown away had made her mad. While being careful not to walk on a piece of glass, she began to pick her books. Once she had them all, she put them on her bookshelf and looked at her room.
Now that anger was away, Clara began to realize what had happen. For a minute, she stopped breathing, panicked. It's only when her lungs begged for oxygen that she began to breath again. Clara couldn't believe what was in front of her eyes. The only possibility was a break in. But something was wrong about that. Nothing seemed to be stolen, everything was there, on the floor but there. Maybe someone was trying to scare her. If it was the purpose of it all, they succeeded.
To put her room in such a mess, the person had to come in. The only way in was the broken window. Clara walked to her window quietly, making sure not to walk on glass and switch off her torch, not to be seen if there was still someone. She looked at the window, but no one was to be seen. The weirdest thing was that no footsteps were to been seen in the garden. Clara took the risk to switch her torch back on. The window was not entirely broken, there was still glass on the edges, making it impossible for someone to get in by there.
The teenager's girl heart beat began to race. She could feel it in her neck, she was scared like she'd never been. She looked around her, searching for proves that someone was in there: footprints, hair, anything. But all the mess was not the work of a human being. it would seemed like a tornado came into her room and destroyed everything.
Clara's breath became heavier. Murders unexplained she had seen on the news came back to her mind. The horror movies she used to watch with Marion and her dad seemed now so real. Hell, she thought she was in a horror movie. She pinched her skin, hoping this was just a nightmare. She was asleep in the couch and she was dreaming all of this. She pinched herself so hard, she made herself bleed a bit.
And then she felt it. Again. That cold breeze behind her neck, just like the other night. Except this time, it was more intense. Then the whole room became cold and Clara's breath formed some mist. She wrapped her arms around her, trying to warm herself. She had to call the police, even if she didn't know if someone was really there, she needed someone to protect her. Clara took a step forward to take her phone she had left with books when something threw her through her room knocking her out for a few seconds.
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 :)