It has been gradual.
It started with the mirror. My reflection wasn’t mine. It didn’t blink when I did, and it smirked at me knowingly when I leaned in to look close. Its nose was slightly different; its teeth were wrong. Nobody believed me.
Then there was a second heartbeat. A second palpitation, not in rhythm with my own. It was much too heavy, far too fast and oh so distracting. A living echo dancing around my own. The doctors said there was nothing there; it was all in my mind.
This morning, there was a new door in my house. It hadn’t been there when I went to bed. A simple wooden door, nothing rotten or terrifying. But when I get close to it, I can hear steady breathing, and the extra heartbeat thrums twice as hard.
Worst of all, when I lay my ear against the wood, I can hear a voice inside, calling a name.
It’s my voice.
My name.
I am going to open the door.
About the Creator
Winona Morris
Winona always knew she wanted to be a writer when she grew up.
When it became apparant she was never going to grow up she became a writer anyway.
Her first collection "On Darkened Wings and Other Short Horrors" is available on Amazon.
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More stories from Winona Morris and writers in Horror and other communities.
Someone Is Watching - chapter 2
Elena’s back was still pressed against the wall. The man hadn’t moved. One arm rested beside her head, his body blocking the only path away from him. Rainwater dripped slowly from the ends of his dark hair, sliding down the collar of his coat.
By Rosalina Jane3 days ago in Horror
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