Hey! I found a box of old writings.
“What do you want?” the old woman demands of the darkness, “Who’s there?” She stands at the top of the stairs, one hand on the rail, the other clutching her robe to her breast to calm her pounding heart. There is no answer save the wind. Her stomach knots in fear.
“I’ll be alright,” she had told her son and his wife when they had offered to take her with them to the show this evening, “I’d just fall asleep anyway. You two go and have a good time.”
They were wonderful children. Mark, her youngest, had married Laura shortly before Mark’s father had died. “But you’ve got to come live with us, Mamma,” Laura always called her ‘Mamma’, “This house is too big for just the two of us anyway.” This was two weeks ago.
Much as she hated to be by herself, she couldn’t have those two staying home every night because of her. It had taken her two weeks to become used to the house, two weeks to build up enough courage to try to spend an evening alone. Finally, she had ignored her fears and insisted that they go to the show.
“Are you sure you’re going to be alright, Mamma?”
She stands frozen, not wanting to go forward and investigate the noise, but not wanting to retreat to her bedroom and hide under the sheets, waiting. She strains to hear another sound, her poor eyesight little help in searching the shadows of the living room below. Another noise. From where? Behind her? She looks around but sees nothing.
The throbbing in her ears once again grows louder.
“That’s just the house settling, Mamma.” They were downstairs in the dining room playing rummy when they had heard a noise. “Big houses do that a lot.” She had felt secure then. The house had seemed so safe with Mark and Laura around. But now…
Maybe I should call the police, she thinks, there’s a phone in Mark and Laura’s bedroom. But as she turns, a creak from down the hall stops her in her tracks. There’s also a phone at the foot of the stairs. She hesitates, then takes the first step down. Each step is a trial. She places her foot, then pauses to listen. Nothing.
After an eternity, she reaches the bottom and stops, robe held protectively about her, searching the room. The moonlight stabs through the window, revealing a face to her left. She screams and falls clutching her chest, her face unnaturally white.
Are you sure you’re going to be alright, Mamma?
“Is she going to be alright?”
The doctor smiled reassuringly. “She’ll be fine. People have mild heart attacks all the time. All she needs now is plenty of rest.”
Mark and Laura returned his smile, relieved.
“…so it was only the painting of grandfather that you saw, Mamma,” explained Mark.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Laura added, “Mamma, you nearly scared us to death!”