I sat at the computer, completing my first story.
By: Samantha Bond
Tags: Horror Fiction, Haunted, Fiction, Writing, Disability

I sat at the computer, completing my first story. I had been working for the University’s newspaper for three months and I was just now allowed to write for the paper.

“Hey, Rachel why are you here so late?”

I turned around in my chair to see Mathew. A charming smile was always plastered on his face. He picked up his white cane and leaned against the door.

“I was just finishing my story for the paper. I’m super excited to have it published.”

“Well, don’t stay here too late. You know this place is haunted, right?”

“Yeah. Are you sure that’s not just something you say to scare the freshmen?”

He chuckles.

“Fine. Don’t believe me. Just don’t stay out too late. I’d hate for something to happen to you.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m almost done anyway.”

“That’s good. If you want, a few of us are going to see a movie tomorrow night. We’d love for you to join us.”

“Really?”

I try to hide my excitement. I’m not used to being wanted in groups, but I don’t need him to know that.

“That would be great.”

“Cool. Me and a few of my friends will pick you up tomorrow night. Can’t wait.”

He leaves and the silence almost feels ethereal. Like if I drop something, or type too loudly, I’ll destroy the feeling. I try to focus on my article. It’s about the grave yard next to our campus. I found really old tombstones and did research on the name carved into it. The article I was writing had three stories about the people. I completed my article and sent it to the editor. Then I logged off the computer and left the building. A few feet from the doorway was a homeless man leaning against the brick wall. This wasn’t unusual. We were on the edge of campus, so quite a few homeless would often be here. i shoved my hand in my purse and found a five dollar bill. I approached the man with the bill in my hand.

“Where is he?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I just want to see him one last time.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I started to walk away, but he grabbed me by the wrist.

“Please, at least tell me how long it will take.”

“Get away from me!”

I yanked my hand away from him so hard that my journal flew from my other hand. I ran away from the man and picked up my journal. I was trying to write a novel and I used that book to write down any ideas that I had.

“Please, I just need to see him! Why won’t you talk to me?”

The man began to approach me again. I turned away to run, and began to scream.

“Help! Someone help me!”

“Just answer my questions!”

“Hey!”

I turned around to see Mathew standing between me and the homeless man.

“Get the hell out of here! Leave her alone!”

The homeless man grabbed his backpack and ran away from us, leaving me and Mathew alone.

_____________________________

We walked together to Mathew’s apartment, and he made me a mug of hot chocolate. As we spoke about what happened I noticed a key on his table.

“What’s the key for?”

“My mom’s a smoker, and she’s trying to quit. She kept a pack of cigarets in a locked cabinet and gave me the key. Now if she wants to smoke, she has to drive all the way here, get the key, and then drive all the way back home.”

“Why don’t you just keep the box here?”

“Because it would be much easier for me to hide the key from her than the box.”

“That’s smart,” I said,” has she opened the box since you started?”

“Once, when my Aunt Martha died in a car accident.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. It was a while ago and I didn’t know her that well,” he says,” but enough about me. Why do you think that guy was trying to get you to stay with him?”

“I can only imagine,” I said,” I just wanted to give him some money and he started asking to see someone?”

“Maybe you should start carrying a ream of paper in your bag. A few of the other girls do that when they work late.”

“I don’t know. He was probably just crazy. I shouldn’t have gone near him.”

I stood up and set down the mug.

“I need to go. I have a French test I need to study for.”

“Sure you don’t want me to walk you back to your dorm?”

“No, I’m fine. I doubt two horrible things will happen to me tonight.”

“Alright, suit yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

______________________

In 1918, a young man named Blake Wade fell ill with the flu. His brother, Keith was unable to see his brother before he passed, because he was fighting in World War One. Keith killed himself a few years after his brother passed.

______________________

I stepped into my dorm building and was greeted by the RA. I had been living here for months, but I still couldn’t remember her name to save my life.

“Hey Rachel!”

“Oh, hey.”

“You know you were supposed to be here a half an hour ago, right?”

I paused. I didn’t have a good way to explain this.

“Sorry. I was working late for the paper and I lost track of the time.”

“That’s fine. Just try to be on time next time.”

I got on the elevator and pressed the number for my floor. My stomach rumbled. I hadn’t eaten much since lunch and now it was almost midnight. I stepped into my dorm to see my roommate. From the looks of it, she had just returned from one of her parties. She and two of her friends were sitting on her bed and talking.

“Hey, Rachel,” she said,” I had an idea earlier. Since you usually stay up studying, and I like to go to bed early, I was wondering if you could go to the study room at night.”

I knew what she was talking about. I had been afraid of the dark ever since I was a kid, and lately I had been studying late at night so I could have an excuse to keep my desk lamp on.

“Yeah. Of course. I’ll move to the study room in a few minutes.”

“Thank you. Don’t stay up too late. You still need to sleep.”

I started to pick up a few of my textbooks from the desk, when I noticed something had been added to my cork board. Among my normal pictures, was a black and white photo of me standing in the graveyard.

“Who took this photo?”

I looked to my roommate, but she and her friends just shrugged.

“We thought you took it.”

I immediately ran out of the room and went down to speak to my RA.

“Someone was in my room.”

My dad was an engineer, and whenever something was out of place in my room, he would always find an explanation for why it had gotten there. Now, there was no other plausible explanation. Someone took a picture of me without me knowing and then found a way to get into my room and tack it up to my cork board. After asking me a few questions, my RA followed me back up to my room. She looked around my room and then in the bathroom.

“Why is there a swimsuit in your shower?”

I poked my head in to see my one piece swimsuit hanging from the shower rod. It is the beginning of December and I haven’t worn it since the first week of classes.

_________________________

In 1897, a young man named Joey Leonard crashed his car while street racing. He was thrown from the car into a nearby lake and was trapped under the water. His mother was watching the race when he died.

___________________________

“Is that a sword?”

I gasped as she pointed at the rapier hanging over my chest of drawers. I always made sure to hide it whenever room checks were happening. The sword was entirely decorative, and it had a quote on the blade.

“No one goes into battle thinking God is on the other side.”

“It’s not sharp at all,” I said,” my older sister bought it for me after I got fired from a job in high school. “

“What is it doing here?”

“It has a lot of sentimental value. My sister died a few months after she got it for me. It’s the last thing I have to remember her by.”

“Well, it can’t stay here. This is not your house and you need to follow the same rules as everyone else. I expect this to be gone by the end of the week.”

She left the room and I took of my shoes and sighed as I sat down in front of my desk.

“I’m sorry she did that to you,” my roommate said,” I don’t know why she thinks she has to be in everybody’s business.”

“I knew she would get caught with it,” another girl said,” I’ve been saying it since September.”

“Don’t be a braggart Kathryn,” she said,” It does nothing to help the situation.”