The Whisper

A whisper of a word, light as the silent fluttering of bird's wings, caught in the air's web. you try to decipher it but by now it's been carried away, gone too soft for you to hear. no matter. you lie on your comfortable bed, all alone, feeling content and lazy. You stretch, arms over head pulled tight, toes spreading apart from each other for a few seconds, your back arched. You're still in position when a chill tickles its way up the middle of your back, reaching the tight skin behind your neck. Immediately, you react by curling up like a ball on your side, and then you smile, closing your eyes. A memory of a lullaby haunts you, eerie yet enchanting. A lullaby you used to know so well but that now you remember only in fragments. You start humming along to it, letting it grow inside and out of you, letting it take over your mind, body, and soul. You're about to open your mouth to let the sound permeate the air, when a soft sound - one of a wind-chime moving - stops you. You open your eyes, and snap to a sitting position. But there is no one in your bedroom. A draft must have made the wind-chime at the foot of your bed move by itself. But by what was it caused? You had no windows open, no doors open. Another whisper. You had just reached out to steady the wind-chime, but now you stiffen in fright, telling yourself that if there had been someone in your room, you would have noticed before. Right? You close your eyes again, trying to gather courage to turn around and look around the room again, to convince yourself that you are right. When you open them, you brace yourself, and look around the room. No one there. You give a shaky laugh, scolding yourself for being silly, and are about to lie down again, when you hear the whispering again. But this time, it's much louder. You still can't make out the words, but you realise that whoever it is, is singing out a tune very softly. A tune you recognize. A tremble takes control of your body. You hadn't checked under the bed. Again you try to prepare yourself, and figuring that it would be much better to get it over with, you look down underneath the bed without thinking too much about it. But there is no one there. As much as this is a relief, you are still frightened: the singing has maximised in volume and it's not stopping. Your legs feel like butter when you stand up to check underneath your other bed. But once more, when you look beneath it there is nothing. Where could this person be hiding? There is no where else in the room...yes, there is. the closet. Tasting metal in your mouth and perspiring so much that your shirt sticks to your back, you slowly turn to look at the mirror that covers the closet door. A scream erupts from your body, disfiguring your face.