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TITLE (EDIT)
Stranger Underneath |
DESCRIPTION
Have you ever heard the sound of heavy breathing? Imagine it, the noise of someone or something breathing. Now imagine you’re in a box, and the breathing is louder. Add in other factors, such as darkness, coldness, and evilness. Surprise! You’re in my room, and surprise again; the breathing is coming from under my bed. Now, there’s nothing wrong with my room, everything’s fine. I’m safe here.
[1,123 words] |
TITLE KEYWORD
Psychology |
AUTHOR
Keivn Luk |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Kevin has lived in New York for the plast eleven years, he is a teacher a the local boarding school for the blind. He teaches physical eduations. He is happily married with seven kids all of whom he loves very much.
[March 2005] |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (3)
Breaking Morals And Ethics, An Analysis Of Lolita By V. Nabokov (Essays) Humbert was a fictional character created by the author, however there must be certain truths within this fictional story that relate to the author. [1,811 words] [Writing Resource]
Fixing A Broken Heart. (Short Stories) What you seek is hidden in the shadows. [234 words] [Romance]
Walking The Road (Short Stories) Two strangers, with no recollection on how they got there meet each other in a strange place where the road is metallic, and the trees are taller than most buildings. What they learn about each other ... [2,166 words] [Mystery]
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Stranger Underneath
Keivn Luk
“Left here with only my thoughts.”
My family had decided to move out of the city and into the countryside of New Jersey. They thought it would’ve been better for me. My dad had found this nice house; it was fairly big, and fairly old. My room was in the basement next to the kitchen. However, no one ever used that kitchen, I’m not sure why. Now, there’s nothing wrong with my room, everything’s fine. I’m safe here.
Have you ever heard the sound of heavy breathing? Imagine it, the noise of someone or something breathing. Now imagine you’re in a box, and the breathing is louder. Add in other factors, such as darkness, coldness, and evilness. Surprise! You’re in my room, and surprise again; the breathing is coming from under my bed. Now, there’s nothing wrong with my room, everything’s fine. I’m safe here.
My parent’s told me it was just my imagination. They told me that I’m safe, they refused to believe me. I stop being scared.
From underneath my bed the breathing got more horrid and loud. I came from under my covers and swung my feet off the side of my bed. Slowly I placed my feet over the floor and got off my bed. I knelled down on my knees and looked under my bed. And there, under my bed, was a pair of dark yellow eyes starring straight into mine, the very shape of them presented evil.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with my room, everything’s fine. I’m safe here.
It would have been awhile before I would have done that again. I kept repeating to myself, there’s nothing there, It’s all in my mind. For three weeks I slept in my bed, waiting, listening to the breathing. Every time I closed my eyes I could feel the eyes of that monster starring into mine. I could never forget those eyes, never. The breathing started again.
After many weeks I had finally got the courage to look beneath my bed once again, this time with my father’s flashlight. For weeks I reminisced how the eyes looked like a wild animal's, I had to see the rest. The amount of sweat I produced preparing for the trip was unimaginable. I gained the rest of my courage and knelled down. Again, I saw those eyes, and pointed my flashlight right at them. I flipped the switch and the light beamed directly upon its face. In a split second I grasped the entirety of its pale white skin, partially opened mouth, bright red lips, and animal like eyes. For I could see, quite clearly, that it wasn't a monster that owned those eyes. Nope. It was a clown.
For the next few weeks I reminisced about how the eyes looked like a wild animal's, how it's mouth was partially open and I could see that it had sharp pointy teeth. And how it just stared back at me.
Counselors said it was normal for a kid like me and nurses said I was psychologically fit. My parents talked to me about how I wanted attention. This was a huge set back for me I wasn’t fucking insane. Nope not at all, I was perfectly normal. My mind slowly deteriorated after this, I became unlogical, abusive, and paranoid. Lack of sleep will do that to you. I mean, I was happy that they were at least trying to help me but every time I brought up The Clown, I quickly became an object of frustration, a source of strife. My request to sleep on the couch was summarily denied. For to do so, would be to lend credence to my... imagination.
To hell with them all, I am setting everything straight.
I lowered myself down. I sat on the floor. I starred at the eyes starring out at me. I lifted up the flashlight and pointed it at them. I turned the flashlight on. And there it was. The Clown.
I turned the flashlight off. I turned it on again.
Still there.
I turned it off again.
I was really scared. But in a way...I felt better.
I slept.
Next night I did it again. Still there.
I slept again. But before falling asleep... I wondered.
Next night, again. Still there.
I wanted to talk to the clown. Next night I wasn't scared at all. In fact I slept on the floor. I wanted the clown to talk to me. Night after that I slept closer to the bed. And the night after that I slept under the bed. But still nothing.
You should’ve seen my mother’s jaw drop when she saw me sleeping under the bed. I took this as an opportunity to prove her that the clown really did exist. I came out from under the bed and asked her to look. She was horrified, and ran up stairs. I was so happy; the joy of the proof of my sanity was amazing. I looked under my bed, but there was nothing there. I went from utterly blessed to dejected in mere seconds. I looked into my bedroom mirror, horrified to find bite marks all over my body. I was naked. I again looked under my bed I even went under to look for The Clown, nothing. I was so angry I went into my father’s tool shed and grabbed an axe. I destroyed everything in my room; every thing was hacked into bits, every thing but my bed. The room was a mess.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with my room, everything’s fine. I’m safe here.
The next night my mother left to stay with my aunt for the night, I’m not sure why. My dad was the only one home. But he locked the basement door. Fuck him, I don’t need him. Around three in the morning I heard the loud breathing, I then proceeded to look underneath the bed. There was nothing. The night after that there was no breathing, it was all gone, and I felt that my sanity was gone as well.
No, this can’t be! I am sane; I have to prove it.
My dad finally unlocked the door to the basement and came to my room to check on me. He looked around but there was no one. He didn’t notice that I was hiding under the bed. He than began to leave my room until I started breathing heavily. He looked under my bed and saw me with my white make-up, button nose, and bright red lips. With my mouth partially open I began to breathe hard.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with my mind, everything’s fine. I’m safe here.
So... Reader. I was wondering...
Is he under 'your' bed?
Have you... checked?
Do you mind if I do?
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2005 Keivn Luk |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
March 2005 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2180
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