#133 Gotcha!

by Gillian Walker

It was sinister, that window at the bottom of the stairs, back-lit, as it was, by the street lamp outside. The child averted her glance whenever she ran by; avoided staring into the ghoulish face that lurked within the glazing. The un-blinking eyes that watched her every move; read her thoughts; knew her secrets; that peered into her very soul—and mocked her fear with a knowing, grimacing grin. Its presence haunted her.

No more! The stone was hurled with all the force she could muster, drilling a perfect hole just below the mouth, crazing the surrounding glass. It landed on the bottom stair, where it lay surrounded by minute, shimmering shards of glass. The face, already ugly, became warped; even more grotesque. The damage only served to intensify the menace. Instead of ridding her of her nemesis, the missile only compounded the situation. Now, her tormentor had become an even more ominous spectre, and exuded an air of pained reproach which was “verbalised” by air, shrieking through the hole, in a high-pitched whine; a constant reminder, not just of the stone, but of her terror.

“The glazier'll be here tomorrow,” announced Dad, one morning. “Replace that ghastly window in the hall. Shut out the draught. The wind fair whistles through that hole.”

“Never did like it much. Be glad to see the back of it.”

“Yeh! Whatever broke it, did us a favour.”

Turning, the child looked boldly toward the crazed face. Catching its eye, she grinned.



Sarah Laurenson said...

Great description of the window and the feelings it conveyed.

Thomas Joyce said...

I really liked the way you described the menace of the window and the grip it had on your character. Well done!