Score
The ninth installment of my flash novella.
Score
“How did you know?” Demanded Sam. He had jumped to his feet and stood back from Farrah, who was staring at him in confusion.
“Know what?” She asked.
“Know that this box was there! Know that it had these, these pictures in it!” He yelled, forgetting the ominous house they were in. He clutched his mother's picture in one hand and shook it in Farrah's direction.
“I didn't know,” Farrah said, starting to get up.
“Stay there!” Sam yelled, stepping back toward the door.
“I didn't know!” Farrah sounded desperate.
“You went there immediately! I couldn't even see the box from the door,” Sam shot at her.
“I told you I could see things,” Farrah said, actually standing now.
“No,” Sam said, “You said you saw something. There's a difference.”
“Well, I can see things,” Farrah was almost pleading.
“You had something to do with it, didn't you?” Sam questioned. His voice was cracking with anger now.
“No!” Farrah shouted. “Let me explain!”
“Explain what?” Sam spat. “I think it's pretty obvious you're connected to this somehow.”
“There's someone in the room,” Farrah blurted quickly. Sam's eyes grew in horror as the words resonated in his ears.
“There's nobody but us,” he stumbled, afraid what she had said may be true.
“No,” Farrah said. “There's a woman. I saw her disappear in here as we came up the stairs. She pointed under the bed. That's all.”
“That's all?” Sam's voice had dropped o an angry whisper. He had felt a chill run up his spine as Farrah was talking. What she was saying was crazy, but the whole situation was crazy. He didn't know what to believe.
“Look,” Farrah started, “All my life I've been able to see things. People. Well, not people.”
“Not people,” Sam echoed.
“Ghosts?” she said hopefully. “I think they're ghosts. They almost always wear different clothes - old clothes. Like something out of a history book. Sometimes they look like us. Those are the ones I have trouble picking out.”
“Ghosts,” Sam said. He was staring at Farrah in astonishment.
“When I saw you run off after that shadow, I thought,” she paused, “I thought it might be.. Be something.”
“A ghost,” Sam said again.
“Something like that,” Farrah said, taking a step toward Sam.
Sam put his hand up to stop her. “If this situation weren't completely insane,” he began, “I wouldn't believe a word you've said.”
“Of course,” Farrah interjected, scowling.
“But,” Sam said, glaring in her direction, “I have to ask: What does she look like?”
“Excuse me?” Farrah was caught off guard.
“The ghost. What does she look like?” Sam asked again.
“She was a child,” Farrah stumbled. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she stared past Sam.
“Oh,” Sam couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice.
Suddenly, Farrah came to. Her head jerked in the direction of the closet, and her eyes grew wide with horror. The light began to fade from the room. She grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him out the door, slamming it behind her. They turned toward the stairs they had come from, but instead almost ran face first into a wall.
“What just happened?” asked Sam.
“There were stairs here before,” said Farrah. She grabbed Sam's arm again and pulled him toward the end of the hall. As they ran past the room they'd just come from, Sam noticed the door was halfway open.
The further they ran the further the window at the other end of the hall became. Farrah let out a growl of frustration before coming to a sudden stop. She glanced around. There were any number of doors to either side of them, and Sam couldn't even see where they'd come from at that point. Farrah's eyes were almost slits and her nose was wrinkled as she peered around. Finally, she seemed to settle on another room. She jerked Sam along and disappeared.
Sam hurried after her. The door opened onto a wide landing. There was a large set of windows looking out into a serene garden on the opposite side of the room. Two sets of stairs wrapped around either side of the wall, sloping down into an open foyer. The floors were wooden, as were the walls, and as Sam walked toward Farrah, he thought he could hear the sound of a piano echoing in the large room..
He glanced over the railing and directly beneath them stood a beautiful grand piano. It was glossy black with ivory keys, and nobody sitting at it. Sam could see the keys moving on their own. Farrah seemed to sense Sam's discomfort.
“They're not moving on their own,” she said, side-eying him. She leaned on the railing and put her head on her arms. The sound of the piano was comforting, soothing. Sam joined Farrah in putting his arms on the railing, resting his head in his hands. He felt as though the notes were transporting him to a different world. Somewhere safe. Somewhere his mother was.
Sam's eyes started to sag. He was drifting into a blissful sleep when Farrah shoved him. Sam stumbled, grabbing the railing to keep his balance. Farrah pointed at the door which now stood open. A growing shadow spilled through the door, flowing across the floor toward them.
The piano had stopped.
Sam and Farrah rushed down the stairs, turning away from the large windows and garden and heading instead back toward the inside of the house. As they passed beneath the landing, next to the piano, Sam saw a picture of a young boy on the piano seat. His eyes had almost disappeared because of his wide smile.
Part 8: Breathless
Part 10: Monster
Score
“How did you know?” Demanded Sam. He had jumped to his feet and stood back from Farrah, who was staring at him in confusion.
“Know what?” She asked.
“Know that this box was there! Know that it had these, these pictures in it!” He yelled, forgetting the ominous house they were in. He clutched his mother's picture in one hand and shook it in Farrah's direction.
“I didn't know,” Farrah said, starting to get up.
“Stay there!” Sam yelled, stepping back toward the door.
“I didn't know!” Farrah sounded desperate.
“You went there immediately! I couldn't even see the box from the door,” Sam shot at her.
“I told you I could see things,” Farrah said, actually standing now.
“No,” Sam said, “You said you saw something. There's a difference.”
“Well, I can see things,” Farrah was almost pleading.
“You had something to do with it, didn't you?” Sam questioned. His voice was cracking with anger now.
“No!” Farrah shouted. “Let me explain!”
“Explain what?” Sam spat. “I think it's pretty obvious you're connected to this somehow.”
“There's someone in the room,” Farrah blurted quickly. Sam's eyes grew in horror as the words resonated in his ears.
“There's nobody but us,” he stumbled, afraid what she had said may be true.
“No,” Farrah said. “There's a woman. I saw her disappear in here as we came up the stairs. She pointed under the bed. That's all.”
“That's all?” Sam's voice had dropped o an angry whisper. He had felt a chill run up his spine as Farrah was talking. What she was saying was crazy, but the whole situation was crazy. He didn't know what to believe.
“Look,” Farrah started, “All my life I've been able to see things. People. Well, not people.”
“Not people,” Sam echoed.
“Ghosts?” she said hopefully. “I think they're ghosts. They almost always wear different clothes - old clothes. Like something out of a history book. Sometimes they look like us. Those are the ones I have trouble picking out.”
“Ghosts,” Sam said. He was staring at Farrah in astonishment.
“When I saw you run off after that shadow, I thought,” she paused, “I thought it might be.. Be something.”
“A ghost,” Sam said again.
“Something like that,” Farrah said, taking a step toward Sam.
Sam put his hand up to stop her. “If this situation weren't completely insane,” he began, “I wouldn't believe a word you've said.”
“Of course,” Farrah interjected, scowling.
“But,” Sam said, glaring in her direction, “I have to ask: What does she look like?”
“Excuse me?” Farrah was caught off guard.
“The ghost. What does she look like?” Sam asked again.
“She was a child,” Farrah stumbled. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she stared past Sam.
“Oh,” Sam couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice.
Suddenly, Farrah came to. Her head jerked in the direction of the closet, and her eyes grew wide with horror. The light began to fade from the room. She grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him out the door, slamming it behind her. They turned toward the stairs they had come from, but instead almost ran face first into a wall.
“What just happened?” asked Sam.
“There were stairs here before,” said Farrah. She grabbed Sam's arm again and pulled him toward the end of the hall. As they ran past the room they'd just come from, Sam noticed the door was halfway open.
The further they ran the further the window at the other end of the hall became. Farrah let out a growl of frustration before coming to a sudden stop. She glanced around. There were any number of doors to either side of them, and Sam couldn't even see where they'd come from at that point. Farrah's eyes were almost slits and her nose was wrinkled as she peered around. Finally, she seemed to settle on another room. She jerked Sam along and disappeared.
Sam hurried after her. The door opened onto a wide landing. There was a large set of windows looking out into a serene garden on the opposite side of the room. Two sets of stairs wrapped around either side of the wall, sloping down into an open foyer. The floors were wooden, as were the walls, and as Sam walked toward Farrah, he thought he could hear the sound of a piano echoing in the large room..
He glanced over the railing and directly beneath them stood a beautiful grand piano. It was glossy black with ivory keys, and nobody sitting at it. Sam could see the keys moving on their own. Farrah seemed to sense Sam's discomfort.
“They're not moving on their own,” she said, side-eying him. She leaned on the railing and put her head on her arms. The sound of the piano was comforting, soothing. Sam joined Farrah in putting his arms on the railing, resting his head in his hands. He felt as though the notes were transporting him to a different world. Somewhere safe. Somewhere his mother was.
Sam's eyes started to sag. He was drifting into a blissful sleep when Farrah shoved him. Sam stumbled, grabbing the railing to keep his balance. Farrah pointed at the door which now stood open. A growing shadow spilled through the door, flowing across the floor toward them.
The piano had stopped.
Sam and Farrah rushed down the stairs, turning away from the large windows and garden and heading instead back toward the inside of the house. As they passed beneath the landing, next to the piano, Sam saw a picture of a young boy on the piano seat. His eyes had almost disappeared because of his wide smile.
Part 8: Breathless
Part 10: Monster