by P. J. Night
Alyssa brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her little sister’s face.
“I hid when I heard you coming down the stairs,” Anne continued. “I didn’t want you to see me so afraid of an old basement.”
“Anyone would be scared,” Alyssa said. “We heard the door slam, but I’m sure it was just the wind that did it. There’s really nothing to be afraid of in this house. It’s just old and abandoned is all. No ghosts here.”
“I didn’t feel so brave,” Anne replied.
“Not brave?” Alyssa asked, exaggerating her surprise. “I would never have come over here by myself. Never mind in the dark! You’re braver than anyone I know, Anne.”
They sat silently for a moment. Anne had stopped crying and her previously short, jagged breaths were now calm and slow.
Alyssa stood, and she and Amanda helped Anne to her feet.
“Meet our new friends,” Alyssa told Anne.
“I’m John.”
“And I’m Michael.”
Both boys shook Anne’s hand. Anne noticed how polite they were—much nicer than the kids she knew from school.
“This is our youngest sister, Anne,” Alyssa told the boys. She was relieved to see Anne manage a smile.
Alyssa was also glad Anne was starting to feel better, but she wasn’t entirely sure that her words of reassurance were true.
Alyssa thought back to the loud crash that had followed the slamming of the door. She looked around to see what could have caused such a racket. Although there were an overwhelming number of items in the basement, the knickknacks and pieces of furniture were somewhat neatly organized, as if someone had taken great care to keep them placed as they had been all those years ago.
That was when Alyssa spied the objects that must have fallen and caused the crash.
She walked to the far side of the room and saw that an entire shelf of large, lifelike porcelain dolls had fallen to the ground.
She reached down and picked one up. A jagged crack ran along the doll’s face.
Alyssa looked deeper to examine the damage. Maybe the dolls could be fixed. Maybe she could even bring them back to her mom. They might be worth something.
As she brought it closer, the doll’s closed lids sprung open; its pupils rolled back and forth in its porcelain head.
Shocked, Alyssa dropped it and the doll shattered into a thousand pieces among the others. She watched as the tiny shards bounced and finally settled.
Then, all at once, ten sets of tiny eyes from broken porcelain faces popped open and stared back at her.
CHAPTER 11
Alyssa’s scream this time was so piercing that Amanda’s hands went instinctively to cover her ears.
Then Anne began to wail. “I want to leave now!”
“What happened?” Amanda asked, rushing over to her fear-stricken older sister.
“The eyes!” Alyssa shrieked. “They were closed! Then they opened all by themselves!” She was finding it difficult to find the words to explain what had happened.
Amanda bent down to inspect the shattered dolls. She carefully picked up a doll’s head and watched its eyes roll back and forth and its eyelids open and close.
John and Michael walked over.
“They’re just dolls,” John told Alyssa. “The force of the door slamming probably knocked the shelf loose.” He pointed to the basement door.
Surprisingly, it was now wide open and let in a draft of cool air.
“I pried it open earlier,” Michael explained. “While you were playing with the cat.”
Alyssa sighed in relief. A small gust of wind must have gently forced the dolls’ eyes open. She took Anne by the hand and guided her through the racks of old clothes and ancient objects toward the stairs.
When she reached the foot of the stairs, Alyssa turned around to take a final look at the sleek black cat before heading upstairs, but instead of seeing the furry animal pawing its way about the rubbish, another object captured her attention. Fresh fear filled her veins. The old wooden wheelchair that had remained still in the room for the entire time they had been down there was now moving back and forth, ever so slightly. She looked at the open door and decided a small breeze must be causing it to sway.
Alyssa turned around and climbed the stairs after her sisters. When she reached the family room, Amanda noticed Alyssa’s still-ghost-like complexion.
“Honestly, Alyssa,” Amanda said to her when she entered the living room, “you look like you’ve just gone through Paul Furby’s haunted Halloween house!”
“It’s okay,” John assured her. “Blinking doll eyes would scare me too! But I think we all know that the wind is to blame—that’s really all there is to it.”
“Of course,” Amanda agreed. “Everything can be logically explained. You’re just scaring yourself.”
Alyssa nodded.
“Well, I guess I should head back,” said Anne. “Everyone coming with?”
“We’re having fun,” Amanda told her youngest sister. “Stay with us for a while.”
“I don’t know,” Anne began. “I’m still a little creeped out from earlier.”
“We wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” John assured her.
“Right,” Michael agreed. “As long as you’re inside, you’ll be safe forever.”
Anne looked at the boys and wondered if they were flirting. She suddenly realized why boy-crazy Amanda wanted to stay. John and Michael were totally cute!
“Actually, we should leave now,” Alyssa told her sisters. “We’re cutting it too close to midnight. If we stay here much longer, Mom and Dad will absolutely notice we’re gone.”
But instead of immediately agreeing with her older sister, Anne wandered into the foyer, marveling at all the old things, just as her sisters had done earlier.
“Okay,” Anne told Amanda, ignoring her oldest sister completely. “I’ll hang out for just a little while.”
“Perfect!” Amanda almost squealed.
Alyssa looked like she might pull them both out of the house, but then she softened her expression. “Okay, but as soon as the clock strikes midnight, we’re out of here.”
“What should we do?” Amanda asked. She glanced at the grandfather clock. There were only five more minutes till midnight. Midnight, she reminded herself. Midnight could mean a kiss. A flurry of butterflies flitted in her belly.
“Well,” John said, “since Anne was hiding earlier and we found her, maybe we should play an official game of Hide-and-Seek? Just a quick round to pass the time until midnight. And then we’ll all leave.”
“You girls hide,” Michael suggested. “John and I will find you.”
John and Michael turned their backs on the girls and started to count backward from one hundred.
With stifled giggles the sisters whispered to one another that they should separate, making it a real challenge for the boys to find them. They scrambled off to find their hiding places.
As soon as the girls were off, the boys turned around just in the nick of time to see the direction each sister had headed.
Amanda and Alyssa both headed for the kitchen. Amanda opened the door to a large pantry. There was just enough room for her to squeeze inside. She sneezed as she closed the door behind her and heard a sharp “Shh!” from Alyssa, who was crouched underneath the kitchen table.
Each minute lasted as long as a lifetime for the girls hiding. They were giddy with the anticipation of having the boys spring on them, discovering their hiding spots.
When they could no longer hear the boys counting, Alyssa popped her head out to get Amanda’s attention, and whispered to her. “Doesn’t it seem like we’ve been waiting a long time?” she asked.
“They’re probably still looking,” Amanda replied. “Let’s wait just a minute longer.”
Amanda rubbed her eyes and started to feel tired for the first time tonight. But her thoughts went back to counting down till midnight . . . and the kiss that would come when John or Michael found her.
In
the foyer, John and Michael had stopped counting. They had waited a few minutes and then stood directly in front of the tall, antique grandfather clock. They watched as the second hand ticked its way toward the twelve. When the first chime rang out, John mouthed, Go! and the two boys sprinted through the front door.
“We can’t just leave all three of them,” Michael said, once they had jumped down off the porch. “There’s no need. I think we should at least go back for Anne. She’s only a little kid.” He ran back inside, just as the clock chimed for the third time, and ran upstairs to find Anne hiding underneath the four-poster bed in the master bedroom.
“Found you!” Michael said. “Hurry, let’s go outside. I think I saw your sisters leaving through the front door!”
Anne followed Michael through the door and onto the porch. John carefully hopped down the steps and onto the ground. The seventh chime rang.
“Here,” Michael said, offering her his hand. “Let me help you.” Anne grabbed his hand and followed him down the rickety steps. As soon as she reached the ground, John and Michael playfully teased that they had found her first.
“Under the bed was the first place anyone would look!” John said. “You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Anne doubled over with laughter. She squealed with delight as the boys joked with her.
She was laughing so hard she barely noticed the ring of the twelfth bell. It was midnight. The new year was here.
“All right, time to find my sisters,” Anne said.
Michael and John suddenly stopped laughing. A look of fright passed over their faces. Anne looked at them quizzically—they seemed very serious. She walked to the side of the house to look for Alyssa and Amanda. The boys ran to her.
“Wait!” Michael exclaimed. “It’s good luck to kiss someone at midnight.”
John and Michael each kissed Anne on a cheek. Then they ran off.
Anne stood in place, stunned. The boys jumped up and down, cheerfully hooting and hollering while they ran quickly away from the house. She suddenly felt vulnerable standing outside all by herself.
“Alyssa!” Anne called. “Amanda!”
Back inside, Alyssa and Amanda also heard the clock chiming, announcing midnight. They emerged from their hiding places and stood silently until the clock bells stopped. Alyssa knitted her eyebrows together.
“Why didn’t John and Michael try to find us?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Amanda replied disappointedly. Another New Year’s Eve had gone by. Another year without receiving a kiss. “Let’s find them.”
Room by room, they searched. They looked behind every sofa and chair, and underneath each table and bed. Finally, they realized they were alone in the house. No John. No Michael. And no Anne.
“I guess we should just go home,” Amanda suggested.
“No way!” Alyssa replied. “We definitely can’t leave without Anne.”
“She must have already left,” Amanda offered. “We’ll look outside for her. If we can’t find her, we’ll go home. We can always come back for her.”
Alyssa couldn’t imagine her youngest sister leaving without them, but what other choice did she have? She opened the heavy wooden door and looked out past the old porch. She was still unnerved by the dark and quiet, and she grabbed Amanda’s hand for comfort.
They each took a step past the threshold of the house out onto the porch and into the night.
A split second later, Alyssa and Amanda were standing—once again—inside the house, looking out onto the porch.
“Huh?” Amanda asked. She looked at Alyssa, begging for an answer. Alyssa looked stunned and horror-stricken. She let go of Amanda’s hand and shook her head.
“We’ve been in this house too long,” Alyssa panicked. “I’m starting to lose it. Let’s go!”
The sisters walked past the threshold of the door again, and once again they were instantly transported right back inside the house. Amanda felt a cold, slick layer of sweat on her skin. She was starting to panic.
“Alyssa!” Amanda screamed. “Why can’t we leave?”
“You try this time,” Alyssa told her. “Alone. I’ll stay in here.”
Amanda walked through the door and was immediately transported right back next to her older sister.
“What happened?” Amanda asked.
“Nothing,” Alyssa replied. “It was like you never left my side.”
Again and again the sisters tried to walk through the house’s threshold, into the outside world. Each time they were left staring out into the night from inside the house.
Alyssa’s heart pounded. She didn’t know how it had happened, but she knew what it meant. “We’re trapped!” she screamed.
Alyssa pulled her sister by the hand into the kitchen. She opened the back door and walked through it. Again, within the blink of an eye, she was whisked back inside the house. Alyssa ran down the basement stairs with Amanda on her heels. The door that had been wide open earlier was now securely shut. Alyssa tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Using all her might, she finally pried open the door.
“Go through it,” she said.
Amanda took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and walked through the door. When she opened them, she was standing directly in the same spot. That’s when Amanda started to cry. “We’re stuck in this house!”
CHAPTER 12
Alyssa wrapped her arms around her shaking sister. She was also freaked out and trembling, but she tried her best to remain calm for Amanda. No matter what, she was the oldest, and she knew Amanda would need her now more than ever. She replayed the events of what had just happened over and over. How could they be trapped inside this house? She steered Amanda back upstairs.
“We can’t quit trying,” she told Amanda. “Let’s try every door and every window. There has to be a way out!”
“Let’s stay together no matter what,” Amanda replied, taking in gulps of air.
“Of course. We’ll try the kitchen door again,” Alyssa replied calmly. But the same thing occurred each time they attempted to leave the house.
They traveled from room to room, wildly searching for a way out. Each time they failed. Defeated, Amanda made her way back into the living room and dropped onto the old sofa.
“We haven’t tried a window yet,” Alyssa said. “Just wait here. I’ll go through it.”
Alyssa opened a window and tried to climb out. But just as she expected, as soon as her foot hit the ground, it wasn’t the soft grassy earth beneath her feet, but the house’s hardwood floor.
Amanda was still making little sobbing sounds as Alyssa continued to pace around the living room. Near the front of the room she noticed a small white envelope on the table with the stained-glass lamp. Had it been there the entire night? How had she missed it earlier? Scooping it up, she stared at the neat block letters that read: TO THE REPLACEMENTS.
Alyssa ripped open the envelope to find a folded sheet of lined paper with a note written in the same block letters. She scanned its contents and trembled. Then, she walked over to her sister and read the letter aloud.
DEAR REPLACEMENTS,
IF YOU ARE READING THIS THEN YOU PROBABLY KNOW NOW THAT YOU ARE UNABLE TO LEAVE THE HOUSE. THE SAME THING HAPPENED TO US FIFTY YEARS AGO. AND, FOR FIFTY YEARS, WE’VE BEEN TRAPPED INSIDE THIS HOUSE. UNTIL TONIGHT.
IT IS USELESS TO TRY TO ESCAPE. THE HOUSE IS CURSED. IT NOT ONLY TRAPS YOU INSIDE, BUT YOU HAVE BECOME INVISIBLE TO REGULAR PEOPLE. IT’S NOT ALL BAD. YOU WILL NEVER GROW A YEAR OLDER. AND YOU WILL NEVER LOOK ANY DIFFERENT THAN YOU DO RIGHT NOW AS YOU READ THIS LETTER.
IF YOU ARE PATIENT, YOU WILL HAVE YOUR CHANCE TO LEAVE TOO.
THE ONLY NIGHT YOU WILL BECOME VISIBLE TO PEOPLE THAT LIVE OUTSIDE OF THIS HOUSE WILL BE ON NEW YEAR’S EVE . . . IN FIFTY YEARS. THEN IT WILL BE YOUR TURN TO FIND YOUR REPLACEMENTS. IF YOU CHOOSE, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO EXCHANGE YOUR SPOT IN THE HOUSE WITH TWO NEW PEOPLE. YOUR REPLACEMENTS MUST BE INSIDE THE HOUSE AT THE TWELFTH STROKE OF MIDNIGHT ON THE GRANDFATHER CLOCK TH
AT TICKS IN THIS ROOM. YOU MUST BE OUTSIDE. THOSE ARE THE RULES.
WE ARE SO SORRY TO HAVE DONE WHAT WE DID TO YOU. SOMEDAY WE HOPE YOU’LL UNDERSTAND WHY WE DID IT.
JOHN AND MICHAEL
Amanda jumped off the couch in anger. “Is this their sick idea of a joke?” she shouted. “I’ve heard of all sorts of crazy magicians. This has to be a trick!”
Now it was Alyssa’s turn to slump down onto the sofa. She continued to stare at the letter. Then, she felt that overwhelming and now familiar sense that someone was watching her. She lifted her eyes from the page. Her gaze drifted over to the large archway leading into the foyer.
A small girl stood before her. The small black cat weaved between her legs.
Alyssa could barely move. She tried to speak, but she could not form any words.
“Who are you?” Amanda asked in a trembling voice.
“I’m Charlotte,” the small child answered. “Charlotte Goodwin.” She reached out to grab the hand of the man who had suddenly appeared next to her. Beside him was a small boy and a woman holding a baby. They looked like they had come straight out of the old photographs on the nearby table.
The woman swayed and cooed at the baby, lightly patting its back. She smiled at Alyssa. To her surprise, Alyssa felt strangely comforted. “Welcome,” the woman said.
“Is it true what this note says? That we can’t leave?” Alyssa asked.
“This all must be very confusing for you,” the man said. He spoke with a hint of a Texas twang, but Alyssa had never heard an accent exactly like his.
“We built this house over a hundred years ago,” he continued. “We tried to make it the perfect home. And over time it was perfect. But whenever we would go out, something would go wrong with the house. A door would fall off its hinges, or the roof would leak. It got to the point where if we even set one foot out the door, something would collapse inside the house. It became clear that the house didn’t ever want us to leave. So we didn’t. We preserved enough food so we would hardly ever have to leave. We spent all our time in our perfect house. Then one day, not long after the new year exactly one hundred years ago, a letter was pushed under our front door, informing us of a mandatory meeting in the newly built town hall for all of Glory’s residents. We dressed to go into town. But when we stepped over the threshold, we were instantly transported back inside the house, looking out into the vast meadows. Just like you, the house would not let us leave.”