The "Thing"

• Oliver Sun, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2015

It was the banging downstairs that woke me up.
I turned over and rubbed my eyes, the blurry alarm clock was still ticking, "2:00" it read. The banging was still going on. I tried to sleep, only to hear deep, booming laughter that sent horrible visions in my mind... Massacres of people.. screams and blood.. the bodies of the deceased lay on the rocky ground while a dark figure loomed over them, laughing and slaughtering anyone he sees.
I couldn't take this any more, I tossed the blanket aside and grabbed my baseball bat, a helmet and a torch. With my bat in one hand and the torch in the other, I walked down the stairs quietly and quickly, trying to ignore the laughter pulsing in my mind. When I reached the living room, the banging sound got louder and more faster, as if someone was trying to escape a prison cell. I advanced slowly and cautiously. I figured the banging was coming from the kitchen, but before I could take another pace, a dark, deep voice called to me, "Too late, too late, too late...". It kept repeating itself until I heard a bloodcurdling scream. The voice stopped, thank goodness, but after a few seconds I saw a distorted, horrible face, peeking out behind the darkness. That's when I fainted.
I'm actually not sure if I fainted or died, but all I know is that my vision blurred into one colour: black. Then I saw the visions again, pain flared everywhere. I am writing this now in the "Things" prison cell, a dark unforgiving place with rats in every corner, blood splattered everywhere, screams and shouts filled the stale air. But the worst thing of all are the visions. I saw myself at my own funerals, I wanted to cry out that I'm still alive, but words couldn't form in my throat. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I saw my own coffin get buried under dirt.
Please, help me, I am losing my sanity, and eventually, I will end up as the person, banging away in that prison cell.