by Gail Fulkerson
The gate creaked whenever the wind blew. The rusted metal fence had sagged inward and fallen to ruin. The sidewalk that led from the street to the front steps had cracked and flaked after years of neglect. The overgrown lawn was a tangle of tall grasses and weeds that small animals and rodents could hide in and build their homes in relative safety.
The house was about to fall in upon itself. The windows were broken out and the curtains were rotted and tattered. The once beautiful home had been long abandoned and the years of neglect made the place look creepy, like something out of a horror movie. An old woman peered out of a second-floor window, watching Nora survey the property, then disappeared behind a scrap of wind-torn curtain.
Nora blinked, not certain whether she saw a figure in the upstairs window. She looked again, but saw no one. Nora walked away, saddened by the sight of her childhood home in ruins.
A few days later, Nora was in her apartment getting ready for work, when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the closet door in her bedroom close. There was a soft click as the door latch found its place. She stood across the room in front of the makeup mirror, frozen in fear, as she observed the closet door shut. A subtle breath of bath-powder-scented air brushed past Nora’s cheek and ruffled her hair. She grabbed her coat and purse and left her apartment, shaken by the experience.
The old woman snickered, pleased with Nora’s reaction to the closet door. She left after that, but made sure she was back in the apartment when Nora got home from work. This time, the old woman made the lights in the apartment flicker. Nora thought it was a brownout and ignored it. She could not, however, ignore the shower turning on, the taps in the sink opening full bore, and the toilet flushing over and over again. Nora would go and turn everything off, only to hear the water running as soon as she sat down on the couch to finish watching her program. And, there was the scent of after-bath powder she could not explain.
It was after a restless night that Nora got up from her bed and walked into the kitchen to make coffee. She had work on her mind, concerned that the workload had increased recently. She wasn’t sure she could keep up the pace before her health started to suffer. When she turned from the coffee maker, Nora saw all of her cooking knives stabbed into the counters and walls, the refrigerator door flung open, and food on the floor. She thought she could hear an old woman giggling, but it was faint, and Nora wasn’t sure where it was coming from.
Not long after the kitchen incident, Nora had retired early and was sound asleep in her bed. Someone or something was trying to wake her up, but she kept resisting. The old woman hovered over Nora’s sleeping body, and stared at her until she awoke.
Nora came awake to see the old woman floating mere inches above her. She screamed and pulled the covers over her eyes, but the old woman grabbed the blankets and yanked them back down. She wanted to make sure that Nora saw her, before she delivered the final coup de grace.
Nora looked into the old woman’s glowing red eyes, and cried out for help, but no one heard her. The bath powder scent had turned rancid. The old lady’s white hair stood straight out from her head. Her mouth was opened in a silent scream.
Nora started praying every prayer she could remember, but rather than helping get rid of the apparition, it seemed to empower the old woman. She cackled right in Nora’s face, then traced Nora’s jaw line with a gnarled forefinger, tipped with a black and ragged nail. Nora fainted. The old woman shrieked with laughter.
She lifted Nora out of her bed and took her to the apartment’s balcony. Nora lived on the tenth floor of the building. The old woman had a time getting the body up and over the railing, but she persevered, and watched, grinning, as the unconscious Nora fell silently through the chilly night air, landing with a satisfying splat on the pavement below.
The old woman didn’t bother sticking around after that. She’d had her fun and now it was time to move on. She wondered how many other people lived in the building and whether or not one of them would become her next plaything. She wafted through Nora’s front door and down the corridor, passing numerous apartments filled with couples and families. They would not do. She needed a single woman (or man) who no one would miss, at least not long enough for the police to become involved.
The old woman heard sobbing coming from an apartment on the floor below. Methinks I hear the sounds of my next victim, the old woman said silently in her head.
She sank easily through the corridor floor and went in search of the crying woman.
Below is a book of poems by Gail Fulkerson
The house was about to fall in upon itself. The windows were broken out and the curtains were rotted and tattered. The once beautiful home had been long abandoned and the years of neglect made the place look creepy, like something out of a horror movie. An old woman peered out of a second-floor window, watching Nora survey the property, then disappeared behind a scrap of wind-torn curtain.
Nora blinked, not certain whether she saw a figure in the upstairs window. She looked again, but saw no one. Nora walked away, saddened by the sight of her childhood home in ruins.
A few days later, Nora was in her apartment getting ready for work, when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the closet door in her bedroom close. There was a soft click as the door latch found its place. She stood across the room in front of the makeup mirror, frozen in fear, as she observed the closet door shut. A subtle breath of bath-powder-scented air brushed past Nora’s cheek and ruffled her hair. She grabbed her coat and purse and left her apartment, shaken by the experience.
The old woman snickered, pleased with Nora’s reaction to the closet door. She left after that, but made sure she was back in the apartment when Nora got home from work. This time, the old woman made the lights in the apartment flicker. Nora thought it was a brownout and ignored it. She could not, however, ignore the shower turning on, the taps in the sink opening full bore, and the toilet flushing over and over again. Nora would go and turn everything off, only to hear the water running as soon as she sat down on the couch to finish watching her program. And, there was the scent of after-bath powder she could not explain.
The old woman kept scaring Nora, night after night, until Nora shouted at the ceiling for it all to stop. It worked, but peace lasted only a day or two. That was when the old lady doubled the strength of her attacks.
It was after a restless night that Nora got up from her bed and walked into the kitchen to make coffee. She had work on her mind, concerned that the workload had increased recently. She wasn’t sure she could keep up the pace before her health started to suffer. When she turned from the coffee maker, Nora saw all of her cooking knives stabbed into the counters and walls, the refrigerator door flung open, and food on the floor. She thought she could hear an old woman giggling, but it was faint, and Nora wasn’t sure where it was coming from.
Not long after the kitchen incident, Nora had retired early and was sound asleep in her bed. Someone or something was trying to wake her up, but she kept resisting. The old woman hovered over Nora’s sleeping body, and stared at her until she awoke.
Nora came awake to see the old woman floating mere inches above her. She screamed and pulled the covers over her eyes, but the old woman grabbed the blankets and yanked them back down. She wanted to make sure that Nora saw her, before she delivered the final coup de grace.
Nora looked into the old woman’s glowing red eyes, and cried out for help, but no one heard her. The bath powder scent had turned rancid. The old lady’s white hair stood straight out from her head. Her mouth was opened in a silent scream.
Nora started praying every prayer she could remember, but rather than helping get rid of the apparition, it seemed to empower the old woman. She cackled right in Nora’s face, then traced Nora’s jaw line with a gnarled forefinger, tipped with a black and ragged nail. Nora fainted. The old woman shrieked with laughter.
She lifted Nora out of her bed and took her to the apartment’s balcony. Nora lived on the tenth floor of the building. The old woman had a time getting the body up and over the railing, but she persevered, and watched, grinning, as the unconscious Nora fell silently through the chilly night air, landing with a satisfying splat on the pavement below.
The old woman didn’t bother sticking around after that. She’d had her fun and now it was time to move on. She wondered how many other people lived in the building and whether or not one of them would become her next plaything. She wafted through Nora’s front door and down the corridor, passing numerous apartments filled with couples and families. They would not do. She needed a single woman (or man) who no one would miss, at least not long enough for the police to become involved.
The old woman heard sobbing coming from an apartment on the floor below. Methinks I hear the sounds of my next victim, the old woman said silently in her head.
She sank easily through the corridor floor and went in search of the crying woman.
Below is a book of poems by Gail Fulkerson
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