Faces

FACES, By Annie Duffy


“CREAK, CREAK…” That was the terrifying sound that disturbed her from her deep slumber. Roxy clutched her blankets in the uttermost terror. “CRE-E-EAK…” Roxy hated her new, old house. There was always some kind of noise; the “CREAK…” of floorboards, the “WOOSH…”of cold wind blowing through windows that RATTLED. Roxy had only been there for two days, two nights, but that didn’t stop her staying for a LONG stretch of terror.
Roxy stared into the darkened room. Footsteps? Were those footsteps she heard? No. Her parents were asleep. Just the creaking floorboards… just the rattling windows… just…

***

The next morning was a dreary one, with dark clouds hovering over a stormy horizon. Roxy looked out of her window gloomily. ‘Only the second day of the holidays.’ She thought sullenly. ‘It’s a fabulous start to living in hell.’
She slid her feet into a pair of slippers and plodded down the dusty hallway, shivering with cold. Their new house was in Hightown, where ice was like running water. Compared to sunny Poptronica where their old house had been- right on the beach- she felt like she was in the North Pole. As she reached the end of the hallway she thought she saw something… a pale shape out of the corner of her eye. Suddenly it seemed even colder in the house, which she hadn’t thought was possible. She glanced up to the attic and thought she saw something in the darkness. No. She shook her head and clattered down to breakfast on the creaking floorboards. There had actually been rumors that her house was haunted! She plonked down in one of the hard, wooden chairs and looked at her breakfast in horror. Cold juice. Cereal. Cold milk. NOTHING hot. She groaned. She looked at her breakfast bowl. It was so shiny; she could see her distorted face reflected in it. She poured in some cereal and milk and began to eat. She hated milk, but they had no electricity in their new house and she couldn’t have toast. She ate the corn flakes fast enough, and all that there was left was a china bowl filled with milk. She looked at her face, swimming in the bowl of milk. She saw something behind her in the bowl. Peering over her shoulder. She turned behind her. No one there. Exept the face. The faces. A pale boy and a young girl. They stared at her. So sad, so full of sorrow. Roxy screamed. The noise made the light fittings rattle. The packet of cornflakes blew over. The milk in the bowl rippled. The boy and girl vanished. Roxy’s mum and dad came down to see what the noise was. Everywhere they looked, Roxy’s family could see the boy and the girl’s reflection. In every mirror, every highly-polished glass and piece of silverware. They all ran, frantically re-packing half-unpacked bags of luggage and driving off into the early morning sunrise. And Roxy couldn’t have been happier.

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