The Hollow Hand

I don't know how I should tell my story. It's hard to just describe all that has happened, but I will try my best. I must say I am sorry if I write something wrong. My hands are shivering and my head is kind of foggy.
Sorry, how rude of me not introduce myself! My name is Sally and I am a teenager. Some weird stuff has happened lately. I have become really worried.
It all started at my old house. I was home and alone. I had that strange feeling that somebody, or something, was there, watching me. It's the kind of feeling that most of us have I think when we are home alone. Well, I just watched TV as always. I don't remember what I was watching, but I remember that the TV suddenly begun acting very weird. It was like a face there, that was blurring, watching...I just thought it was a technical problem or something of that sort. I reached out my arm to turn of the TV, but when I did, something awful happened. I felt a cold feeling, and suddenly my arm dropped, and the remote with it too.
It was a hand on my arm. A cold white, but also bloody hand. It was like it were two eyes that were staring at me. Right into my soul. Quickly, I begun to hyperventilate, and more, I do not remember. That cold feeling is still stuck in me, I can't get rid of it, somehow. It's driven me crazy. From that day, I always called a friend when I was alone. That calmed me down for a while, until it starting coming at the night and day. It literally freaks me out!
I remember last year. It was night time. I saw a black shadow in my bedroom. I thought it was nothing, trying to calm we down with false courage. Of course, it was something there. I could not stop having my eyes wide open. It was a terrifying feeling. The cold feeling slipped through my body, and I was just about to scream, but I couldn't, I would wake the neighbors. The shadow came closer, and I held my pillow hard. The shadow was at my bed. I held my breath and closed my eyes tight. I screamed. I couldn't hold it! A light flashed on. Was I dead? No, it was my parents.
They might have heard my scream. I was so relieved, and I cried of happiness. They asked what happened, and I had to lie: "I...I had a bad nightmare." That was all that came out. I feel terrible for lying to the two people who had possible saved my life. We had to move after that, of some reason I don't know. Did my parents know about it?
For the past few weeks, almost the same thing has happened just at day time. The last time it happened, I was in the bathroom. I wasn't alone in the house, but in the room, yes, there I was alone. I brushed my hair, happy that I had woke up another day. I might sound like a weirdo, but I always check my face, hands and feet, and I do that to check if I have scratched myself somehow, or something unusual on there. I was just to check my hands. I held it up to the mirror, and the unthinkable happened: My mirror reflection raised up the other hand, took on the hand it was holding up. I was scared stiff. It just continued, and it become worse. The face of it changed quickly. It stared at me, and it begun to smile and then grin.
I screamed high, not minding if anybody could hear me: "What is so funny?!"
It watched a sec just to laugh of me more, before it said: "Everything", with a demonic voice followed of a laughter. It movements continued: It held its arm tighter and tighter. I begun to feel it too the arm. It hurt. The mirror reflection, or should I say deacon, begun pulling, and pulling more and more at the arm.
"IT HURTS! IT HURTS!" As I said that I realized the demon repeated my words, but in a more creepier and laughing way.
It continued pulling until the hand was off. I cried. I felt the pain. It was horrible. Finally the demon was gone. A smile turned up in my crying. I had my arm there, but I had some deep cuts on it, and I couldn't move it. I was scared. My parents came in one more time. Soon I was at hospital to check it. I had to get an operation...
Now I am home alone, again, talking to my friend. I hung up. I called my parents, I had to know about what this whole thing was. Time was going so slow. They did not take the phone quickly. Finally! An answer.
"Hi, darling!" my mom said softly. I told about everything to her. It took a while before she said to me:
"I could have told this to you, but I wanted to wait until you got older, darling."
"TELL ME!" I was stressed, I begun screaming at the phone. The cold feeling slided through my body again and my left hand, the hand the demon had pulled on, hurt. It was still unusable.
My mom continued: "I...I didn't know it was going to go so far..."
"GET TO THE POINT! I COULD HAVE DIED! DON'T YOU SEE THAT?!" I couldn't control myself. She stopped, and I could hear her crying and say with a despairingly voice: "Just check the walls..." And I did.
I checked all the walls until I found a little hidden window-like door. Inside it, it was a painting of a hand. The one I saw for some years ago. The same eyes lurked in there too.
I grabbed the phone: "Is this what causes this?!"
"Yes," she replied.
"Why do we have that?"
"I don't want to talk about it." my mom said.
We never talked about it again, to say it more precisely, we didn't talk to each other after that. I didn't talk to anybody after that. I just lost everything. I don't know why I shared it here, I just had to say it someone, somebody.
I must say: Thank you, for reading it. I don't know you. But as long as you just read this, it helps me. I did also do this to warn you. It could happened to you too. I sold the painting, so I don't suffer more. This painting may be yours now. Taking place as a living object.
Now, I'm just sitting here, in the dark, hoping nothing will repeat again...
Category:Items/Objects
Category:Mental Illness