The Girl That Always ChangesNovember 23, 2013, 0 Comments
My name is Cheyenne and I’m 15. When I was 9 years old, I lived in a really tiny house next to my grandparents. It was a really old house and the lady that lived there before me died in it. I didn’t know her very well, but she was really nice.
I had a really tiny bedroom. It was considered a “getaway” room. It was just big enough for my twin sized bed, an armoire, a night stand, and a toy box. One night, I had just laid down to go to sleep and was drifting off. I had my TV on, but it was just a blue screen. I woke up to my youngest brother crying. My parents came in and took him to their room.
I laid back down but not before seeing something moving. I just sat there, frozen. I was straining my back, slowing laying down completely. I was there, wide awake, for what seemed like forever. Finally, I worked up the courage to look down. As I looked beside my bed, I saw a girl, probably about 13 or 14. She was completely blue and had black hair. She was half under my bed.
She smiled and lifted one of her hands, attempting to wave. Doing so caused her fingers to fall off. Shockingly they slowly grew back to a normal size color right before my eyes. She smiled at me again and I fell asleep.
The next morning, she was gone. I told my mom about it and she told me this weird story about a miscarriage she had when she was younger. It sounded as if she was suggesting the girl under my bed could possibly be the older sister that I never had. I brushed it off of my shoulder and forgot about it.
All went well for a couple of years. In seventh grade, we moved to a different house. I had a huge bedroom all to myself for the first time. It had two windows and I fit my bed and a futon in there, along with all of my other stuff from before. All except the toy box. After we got settled in and situated, I had my best friend stay the night. It was summer time and hot in my room, so we opened the windows a little bit while we went to the video store.
We rented Sweeney Todd. While we were watching, my fan abruptly shut off. I figured it just stopped working. My friend went off to bed and left me in my room by myself. I finished the movie. As the credits were rolling, I turned to my window to see a girl, possibly 15 or 16, standing outside of my window. She was tall and from what I could see, very tan. She had black hair that resembled the girl from before. Once again, she smiled, waved at me and in a split second, she was gone.
That night, I didn’t sleep. The next morning, I felt queasy and remembered the miscarriage story that my mom told me. I didn’t think that the girl could have been my older sister, but I did store the thought in my mind. I slept good after that but got an eerie feeling every time I looked at the window.
Several years later, we moved to the house that we’re currently living in. My room was small, once again, and had these see through slats for walls, revealing the insides of the house.
After school one day, I was laying on the bed doing my homework. I suppose I had fallen asleep, but I felt as if I was completely awake. Peeking through the slatted walls was something gold. Not shiny gold, but like the color blonde. It resembled my mom’s hair.
So I laid there, once again, completely frozen. I saw a finger poke out of the slats from the corner of my eye. Whatever it was, it was trying to poke me. It scared me so bad, but I still rolled over and stole a quick peek. I saw a girl, the same girl from before, only this time she looked exactly like me except for the hair. She had long blonde hair, brownish green eyes, and wore black eye liner.
For the last time, I saw her smile, wave, and disappear. Ever since, my hair has been turning from my dyed hair color to blonde, my eyes changing between green and brown, and the changes are noticeable. I’m starting to look exactly like this girl that I saw. Could she really be my sister? I have no idea, but I wouldn’t doubt it.
This whole experience has scared me half to death. I’m almost afraid to move to another house now, for fear of what might happen next.
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