Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24946232-20140519105202/@comment-24946232-20140523165747

heres the next installment of the Blog:

01/06/13

I didn’t go to Ben’s house last weekend. To be honest I was too scared… He came over to mine on the Saturday night and he seemed in good spirits. Apparently nothing had happened on the Friday night. Maybe the police have caught whoever was messing with Ben’s family. Maybe we had scared him off by calling the police. Either way, Ben felt secure with the new security measures that his folks had taken.

While Ben and I were hanging out, my dad came upstairs and told me that he was going up to Johannesburg for work meetings next Thursday. He asked if it was possible for me to stay with a friend while he was gone. Ben instantly said that his parents would be happy to take me in, and as Ben is pretty much my only friend I didn’t really have a choice.

So next week I’m going back to Ben’s house. I’m pretty nervous….

06/06/13

I’m at Ben’s place. Yesterday was Thursday and nothing weird happened (thank god…) but todays Friday: the day when weird shit happens at night at 15 Bokmakierie Street. I’m not going to write much because I really don’t have anything to report and Ben doesn’t know about this blog and I don’t really want him to find out. If anything happens tonight; I’ll report in tomorrow after my dad picks me up.

07/06/13

Just got home. First thing I’m going to say is that Ben’s new security system did not stop whoever, or whatever, it is from fucking with us… I’m going to say now that I’m really struggling. I don’t know what to believe. I know I saw something, but I can’t bring myself to admit that what I saw was real. It can’t have been.

Ben and I had gone to bed. We must have settled down to sleep at around 2 am… I was in that state between being awake and asleep when I heard it. There was a scampering sound coming from above us. This meant that it was coming from the attic. I nudged Ben and he turned on the light. He bolted up in bed when he heard it and both of our eyes gazed up to the ceiling. I asked him if it was maybe rats. He replied, in a whisper, that if it was: they’d be fucking huge. As soon as we started talking, the scampering stopped. Ben and I were really nervous. And then I noticed something: in the corner of the room there was a square in the ceiling. I looked at Ben and the look on his face indicated that he had also made the realisation. The access to the attic was from his bedroom.

We sat in bed, staring at each other. Frozen in fear. Then we heard a horrible creaking sound. The door in the ceiling was being moved… Ben and I kept looking at each other in a game of chicken; who would look away first? Who would swap the eyes of a friend for the eyes of an intruder? Ben looked up first. Then I joined him. The door to the attic was fractionally open. All we could see in the space above us was a dark slither. I instantly got the impression that eyes were gazing from out of that crack. It was torture to gaze there but, like a deer caught in headlights, I couldn’t look away. Then I noticed that part of the crack was darker than the rest. It was like a scene in a horror movie where you can tell something is on the other side of the door because of the dark shadows of the feet. Never before have had I felt more in danger than I did staring into the darkness.

Then the darker part of the crack moved. It became bigger. It became clearer. It was a shape. It was the head of whoever was behind the attic door.

Ben and I got up and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind us. We went straight to Ben’s parent’s room and woke them up. Ben’s dad jumped out of bed and fumbled in his drawer. He turned around with a gun in his hand and sprinted to Ben’s bedroom. The rest of us stayed behind in hushed silence.

We heard him shouting and we sheepishly walked into the corridor to hear what he was saying. He was shouting that he had a gun. He was frantically screaming threats. Then we heard a slamming sound and Ben’s dad shouted “shit” really loudly. He then walked out of the room and his face was white, “We need to call the police.”

The police arrived pretty quickly and Ben’s dad explained how when he had told the intruder he had a gun the attic door had slammed shut. He escorted the police upstairs with a ladder and they checked the attic space. There was nothing up there….

It was four in the morning when the police left. Ben’s dad spoke to us when they had gone. He told us it was windy outside and that’s probably what had caused the whole thing. He said we could go sleep in the guest bedroom if it made us feel better. He said that the whole situation with the Bibles had probably made us all see things that weren’t there.

Ben and I relocated to the guest bedroom. What little sleep we got was plagued with nightmares.