Written by Emily Barnes Read by Joe Fisk
The floorboards creek with weightless feet, explosions in the night. Pictures once face filled now empty spheres of white. Reflection in the looking glass, imageless and bare, this house was once a home now there’s a stranger living there.
A chill rushes through the windows, shadows engulf the walls, hairs begin to stand as you peer out down the hall. One final lap to recheck all the locks, your breath escapes your body, inside you hear a knock. There stands a figure, one you know too well, the ghost of who you used to be, bidding thee farewell.