Never Ending


Taylor Holthus, Author

I sat up quickly, my hair falling in front of my face, sweat rolling in beads down my neck and onto my back. I pushed the hair out of my eyes to see the dark bedroom. I turned to the side where my beside table was to check what time it was as it was still dark. 5:30. I sighed, annoyed that I had woken so early. Then I remembered, why had I woken up? I threw the covers off my body and stood to stretch. I turned on my lamp and pulled my pajamas off, throwing them onto my messy bed and putting on clothes for the day. I’m 14, a teenage girl. Most people think that all teenagers are just rebels and like to break rules. Not me. I guess I’m what you would call a “goody two-shoes”. I’m not really nerdy though, I just don’t like to get into trouble. Making the bed neatly, I opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway. I hated this house. We had just moved to Wyoming and my parents had bought this house. Of all the nice mansions and even cute little townhomes, this. It was like a house from a horror movie, the long hallways with dim lighting that always flickered. My older brother pretended not to be scared and made fun of me but when he thought I wasn’t watching, he looked like he was a child in a corn maze who had lost their parent. Imagine a long hotel hallway with lots of doors in a scary movie. This hallway reminded me of that but it wasn’t so long, with a couple of doors and at the far end, a small set of spiral stairs that led up to the attic that we never used. I stepped out, shutting the door quietly behind me and pushing the door to the left of mine open, refusing to look into the dark. I turned on the lights quickly and shut the door. “Jeez!” I squinted, the sudden light making me feel blind. My red hair was messy, falling all over the top of my head. I grabbed my brush sitting on the counter. 

     “Gosh. Why does it always have to be such a rat’s nest,” I mumbled, barely loud enough to hear. I pulled out the tangles in my hair as I brushed harshly through it. I grabbed my toothbrush and plopped a decent amount of toothpaste onto it. Suddenly the door creaked, I turned just in time to see it open, a man standing there, looking at me. I could barely see his face, his eyes black and staring. Then he stepped into the light and pushed me out of the way. “What’s your problem, Mikey?” I asked, my heart still beating hard from the scare.                                      “My problem?” He shoved me out of the room and slammed the door in my face. “What, you scared, little baby?” His voice was muffled through the door.

“I wasn’t done!” I scream, banging on the door.

The lights flicker on. 

“Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” My dad says, in his calmly menacing voice. He still has his hand on his bedroom door as he’s just opened it, the dark room behind him. I can hear my mom talking to him quietly in the bedroom.a

“Sorry… Mikey went in the bathroom while I was still using it!”

“Yep, and thanks for preparing the toothbrush!” Mikey says, sounding amused through the door.

“What!?” I scream, trying the handle again.

“ENOUGH,” Dad yells, stepping out into the hallway and grabbing my wrist. “Micheal! Get out now! I want you both to apologize, and Mikey, take Lannie to school!” Mikey slammed the door open, his small comb and hair oil in his hand, and shoves me inside. Mikey also has red hair but both of our parents are brunettes. My great grandma had red hair, but she was the only one in the family.

“Go ahead, princess.” His mock voice annoys me and I shut the door, locking it. I find my toothbrush still intact and brush quickly. I quickly started finishing my makeup and putting my jewelry on. I hear Mikey downstairs stomping around. I smirked, thinking, “I won that, didn’t I?”

Suddenly as I stand in the bathroom, checking to make sure I look okay for school, my stomach drops. I step towards the toilet, opening the lid and leaning over it. It feels like everything outside of the bathroom has gone quiet. After a minute, the feeling goes away and I stand up, pushing my hair behind my ears. I reach for the door handle and open it slowly, only to find myself looking into a long hallway that bends to the left at the end. “This isn’t my house, am I hallucinating?” I think, shutting the door again and opening it. It’s still the same hallway. I step out, aware of my thudding heart and shaking hands.

“Mom…? Dad? Mikey?” I call out, loud enough for me to hear my own echo bounce down the hallway. The walls are covered in red wallpaper that looks old-fashioned. There are about 10 doors on each side that are exactly the same. An old, worn-out carpet covers a creaky floor beneath it. I step forward, my footstep muffled by the carpet. There are no windows and the lights are yellow, flickering randomly. As I get to the first door, I reach forward, grabbing the handle and turning it. The door doesn’t open. I walk to the next door, trying it as well. It doesn’t open. I run down the hallway, terrified, and turn the corner. There are three more hallways. Except there are no doors. I turn and run back down the hallway with doors and into the bathroom. It looks the same except for the mirror which has a red, sticky substance forming words on it. 

“He cannot see, but he can hear. Do not wake him… “

My eyes widen as I read the words, over, and over, and over. Who is he?