A Strange Figure

Ever since I was a child, I remember going to sleep every night under the watchful eye of a mysterious figure standing outside of my window. I never felt afraid, for some reason; I just understood that I shouldn’t let it in.

Last month, however, I had pledged to myself that I would begin trying new things and developing more life experiences, no matter how risky or even illegal it might be. As long as the only person I hurt was myself, it was fair game.I started out by going to a bar with a fake ID. While I’m only seventeen, I’m often told that I look old for my age, and apparently that mixed with a quick glance at a poorly crafted card was enough to get me in. The bar smelled like urine and vomit. The beer didn’t taste much better. I didn’t talk to anyone besides the bartender.

Deciding that maybe I could do something a little less likely to be terrible, I went to a twenty-four-hour cafe and tried to stay up all night, drinking coffee and reading some books I brought along with me. I’d never stayed up for an entire night before, and sure enough, I failed. Just before I went to sleep, I remember seeing its head come up, as if letting me know that it was there. It was oddly comforting, but it did make me wonder whether anyone else could see it.

After that, I realized my little outings would probably be more fun if I had someone with me. I didn’t have any friends, I was horrifically awkward, I was an only child, and my parents would throttle me if they found out I was doing these things. I only narrowly managed to keep the cafe thing secret because the next day was a Saturday and I’m allowed to sleep in then, so my mom didn’t come into my room at all to wake me up.

The only other person I could think of was the figure.

So, last Friday, I let myself lie down and begin to fall asleep. Sure enough, the figure appeared, and I got up to open the window.

As it turns out, the figure wasn’t a person, but more of a ghost or phantom or malevolent spirit, I’m not really sure. Thick, misty tendrils shot out of the body and threw the window up with all of its might as it flung itself into my room, then slammed it back shut. A quake ripped through the house as it let out a furious screech, breaking everything glass in my room. My ears bled. I blacked out.

When I woke up, it had taken the form of a guy my age or so and was just sitting there, staring at me. Then it started screaming at me. I couldn’t make out the words, and when I tried to put my hands over my ears, it just screamed louder and started grabbing at me. I put them back down and let him screech.

Every now and then, he’d say something comprehensible, like “You understand?” or “I had aspirations!”

It’s been two days. Whenever I turn my head, he gets louder and pulls me back around. I don’t try to move anymore. I watch and try to listen. So far, all I can make out is that he’s wanted to talk to me but I ignored him for forever and he always wanted to be a major league baseball player or something back when he was alive and I’m an ungrateful little shit.

Nobody’s tried to come in my room ever since he made his way in. I don’t know where my parents are. I don’t even know if they’re alive. I don’t even know if I’m alive.

I just know that my ears hurt.

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To be completely honest, this is not my best work. This was just a little something I wrote because I'm trying to get my creative juices flowing. Thankfully, I've managed to decide on a project and hopefully the next thing I post will be of much higher quality.