The Pale Girl

I don’t know how it happened, only how it started. I thought it was just my overactive imagination, but then things escalated. I know for sure that I’m being haunted and it’s driving me off the edge. I’m overdrawing this; I’ll just tell you the story.

My friend has schizophrenia. Not different personalities, that’s called Dissociative Identity Disorder. Schizophrenia deals more with things like auditory and visual hallucinations. Depending on the severity, it can be treated with medication. Or so she has told me. The medication is actually the reason this is happening to me. Her doctors took her off of it to see how she would react. Three days after, she was over at my house watching TV with me in my room. I’ve grown accustomed to her disorder. How she would look around a room in the middle of a conversation or seem like she would be ignoring you when you spoke, because she would be looking at a hallucination.

During the time she was there, she gradually grew from flicking her eyes over to a corner in my room to intently staring at it. I asked her what she was seeing and she replied with it’s nothing. I went with that response until she started crying. I asked her again and this time she responded with “There is a girl in your corner that’s crying blood.” I told her that it was just a hallucination and she should ignore it. When I said that, she looked at me with such fear in her eyes that I was paralyzed. She said that I shouldn’t say that, that I was making the girl angry. I shook my head and smiled reassuringly that the little girl didn’t exist and couldn’t hurt me. My friend looked away from me and back to the corner, immediately starting to sob.

Later that night I lay on my bed, bored, unable to sleep due to obvious reasons. I was about to turn some music on when I heard my cat meowing from the living room. Needing something to do, I went out to see what was bothering her. I found her staring at a dark corner of the living. Her hair was on end and she was hissing quietly. I was creeped out by this and I bent down to pet her. But she didn’t react to my touch. She just stared at the corner. I started back for my room and she then let out an ear splitting shriek. The kind when a cat’s tail is stepped on or if one is surprised. I immediately turned around, my heart pounding to see…nothing. She was gone. What bothered me was that she would have run into the kitchen and I didn’t hear her hitting the hard wood that makes up the kitchen floor. I looked around the living room, under furniture, and then the kitchen. She was just gone.

As I left the kitchen the sound of a knife being pulled from its holster emanated from behind me. I turned and the knives looked completely untouched. I thought I was delusional from lack of sleep and went to my room. I was interrupted. There was a tapping noise in the living room that stopped me. As I stood in middle of the room, I looked towards the large window next to the front door. The curtains were closed, but slightly askew; which allowed me to see the pale white hand tapping on the window. I ran for my room, slamming and locking the door behind me.

I cowered in the corner of my bed, which was in the corner of my room. I sat with the blankets over my head, heart beating fast, my breath heavy. Then the thudding began. Quite, seeming far off, but got louder and closer. My back was to the wall of my room, that wall being the outside wall of the house, and that thudding increased till I could feel it right behind me. Silence. No noise besides my heart and breath. Next to my bed is another large window covered by a thick curtain. I gathered my courage and came out of my blankets, just enough to peak the curtain back and look out. It was pitch black and nothing was out there besides the bushes. I pulled the curtains edge back a bit more and then the thudding began again. So loud, drowning everything out. I looked back into my room to make sure I was alone and returned my gaze to the window to see the pale white face of a girl. Her eyes were large black voids with blood streaming down her face. I woke up the next morning, my cat sleeping next to me.

Ever since that night, I’ve seen her, over and over. She hunts me. Every night. Every dark space. I see her. And I know she’s real. Because she killed my friend, the one with schizophrenia. She was found face down in a of blood. She bled out from her eyes. I feel that the same will happen to me soon. I hope by reading this, she doesn’t latch onto you. I hope it ends with me. It’s 4 in the morning right now and she’s out there. The thudding is driving me to write this. The thudding never stops. And neither does she.

Credit To: Kyler Hughes

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