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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1615813-FLOWERS-FOR-MOMMY
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1615813
This is a horor/ suspense story about a woman facing her fears
  FLOWERS FOR MOMMY           





         There was that scratching noise again, like something was trying to claw its way through the ceiling.  Angela cringed and pulled the blankets over her head.  What could it be?  She had already called the exterminator, and he said it was nothing.  Well, for nothing, it was getting louder every night.



         She hated old houses, especially secluded ones.  Why the hell did she come here anyway?  It was freezing cold no matter how many logs she put on the fire.  There was a permanent draft that chilled her to her bones.



         People told her old places make noises, as though it was to be expected.  But that scratching noise wasn't normal.  It sounded like a panicked animal trying to escape.  How could it be nothing?



         "I think I have a rat," she told the exterminator.

   

         "No, miss," he said, "I've been up in your attic and there's nothing there, no sign of anything."



         "That's impossible."



         "I could treat your house for rodents, but you'd be wasting your money.  Besides, it's toxic.  I wouldn't let your kids play up there anymore."



         Angela felt the cold draft again.  "I don't have any kids."



         "You don't?" the exterminator asked, "Well, that's strange."  He had an odd look on his face.



         "What do you mean?" Angela questioned.



         "Nothing, miss.  It's just.....well, I just thought you had a kid, that's all.  It's probably just old pipes rattling or something.  I think you need a plumber, not an exterminator."



         She called a plumber, but he couldn't find anything either.  He said most of the pipes had been upgraded.  "Next time you hear the noise, why don't you go up to the attic and check it out yourself?"



         Angela closed her eyes, but the noise kept getting louder.  She got out of bed, shivering, and went to the kitchen to make some tea.  She sat down at the table and stared out the window into the darkness.  How she wished she could wash the last six months of her life away and forget about Dave and the abortion.  Maybe she could go back to the city and get her old job back.  No, she needed this time away - alone in this secluded house.  She had to sort out her life.



         The kettle was whistling, interrupting her thoughts.  She made the tea and wrapped her hands around the steaming cup.  She then sat down at the table again and put her head in her hands.  Why did she feel so guilty about her abortion?  Dave had left her, and she wasn't ready to raise a child alone.  But she couldn't seem to shake the feelings of sickness and dread.



         It was her therapist that had suggested it.  "You need to get away for a while.  Why don't you rent a place in the country where you can be alone?  Sometimes a change of scenery is all you need to come to terms with things."



         So Angela took a sick leave from work and moved into this old house in the middle of nowhere.  So far, all she felt was scared and alone - with the coldness and the dreadful scratching noises.



         As she sipped her tea, she was startled by what sounded like a child giggling.  "Who's there?" she called out, but knew full well she was alone in the house.  She stood up, suddenly feeling nervous.  Then she heard the scratching noise above her head.  She backed away and headed to the bedroom.  She took the two sleeping pills that sat on her nightstand.  It was the only way she could sleep at all.



         At 2:30 in the morning, she was awakened by a loud bang on the window.  The rain was pouring in, but she hadn't left the window open.  Was it broken?  The curtains were blowing straight up in the air.  As she made her way towards it, there was a clap of thunder, causing her to stop and put her hands over her ears.  She hated lightning storms.  They had terrified her ever since she was a child.



         She summoned her courage and went towards the window once more, when there was a large flash of lightning, and at that moment she saw someone behind the sheers.  It was only a glimpse, but she was sure she saw a young boy standing there.  She screamed and slammed the window shut.  Then she felt incredibly dizzy and fell back onto the bed.



         When she awoke in the morning, she was convinced it had all been a terrible nightmare - the storm and the boy behind the curtain.  But the floor was wet where the rain had come in.  Had the sleeping pills caused her to hallucinate?



         Angela was confused and scared, but she decided to face her fears while it was daylight.  She had seen far too many horror films where people crept around in the dark.  She rummaged in the junk drawer until she found a sturdy flashlight and then prepared to go up into the attic. 



         She stood for a long while with her hand on the doorknob.  It was an old, skinny door with steep narrow steps behind it.  She had once got the nerve to look beyond the door but never had the courage to brave the stairs.  This time she was determined, so she opened the door and shone the flashlight up the dark corridor.  Halfway up, a large black spider quivered in his web.  Angela shuddered.  If there was one thing she feared more than lightning storms, it was spiders.



         She grabbed a broom and swept the spider away.  He landed on the stairs with a soft thud and scrambled into a crack in the wall.  She took a deep breath and began to climb the stairs.  They groaned and creaked under her weight, and she felt a cold draft on her face.



         When she reached the top, she waved the flashlight from side to side, nervously following the beam of light, fearing what she would see in its rays.  Thick dust covered everything, but there wasn't much to see.  Feeling confident, she walked into the middle of the attic.  A child's ball was sitting in the corner, and there was an old crib by the brick chimney, but not much else.  It was when she was scanning the old floorboards that her heart stopped.  Etched into the rough wood, in a childish scrawl, were several words carved deep into the floor.  She read them slowly to herself in a hushed whisper:



         "UNLOVED" was written in one spot, and in another - "UNWANTED".  But as she read the last one, and estimated it was above her bedroom, she had to stifle a scream.  "MOMMY I SEE YOU" was carved directly over her bed. 



         Angela backed away and began to head for the stairs, when she noticed tiny human footprints in the dust.  The trail led to the small crib by the chimney.  Her breaths became heavy and short as she clambered down the stairs.  Could this be the scratching noise?  Was someone playing a prank on her?



         She slammed the door and bolted it.  She then went to the bedroom and began to pack her suitcases.  Whatever was going on here, she didn't care to find out.  She made up her mind to leave as soon as possible.



         Halfway through packing, Angela burst into tears.  Was she losing her mind?  Her hands were shaking, and she felt incredibly cold.  She went to the kitchen and poured a straight glass of whiskey and took three more sleeping pills with it.  Although this calmed her nerves, she became very drowsy and was overcome by the urge to lie down .  She laid on her bed, just to rest her eyes, but soon slipped into a deep sleep.....



         The banging noise woke her up.  It was pitch black and she had no idea how long she had slept.  The darkness fueled her fears and she fumbled to turn on the lamp on her nightstand.  It glowed eerily and then began blinking on and off like a strobe light at a dance bar.



         Angela gripped the blankets and pulled them up to her chin.  For 30 seconds it was deadly quiet, the only sound was her heart rattling in her rib cage.  Then the banging noise began again, a repetitive thumping above her head.  She knew right away what the sound was.  It was the sound of a ball bouncing.  She was so frozen with fear she couldn't move, as the lights continued to blink on and off.



         The banging noise stopped suddenly, and Angela felt relieved, until she heard the pattering of little feet walking across the ceiling….. and then a child's voice singing, "LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN."



         The room became freezing cold - so cold that Angela's skin was nothing but pins and needles, and she could see her breath, rolling from her mouth like a thick fog.  Then her lamp flickered and went out.  She began to scream but seemed unable to move, like the cold and silence had pinned her to the bed.



         When the light began flickering again, she saw him standing by the foot of her bed - a young, shirtless boy with a full head of blond curls smiled mischievously at her.  He held out his little hand, which was balled tightly into a fist, like he had something in it.  Then he opened it up and revealed a daisy, crushed in his childish grasp. 



         Angela put her hand to her mouth, her body shaking all the way down to her toes.  The boy then dropped the flower on her bed, and the instant it hit the blankets, it turned into a large, hairy, black spider... and the lights went out.   

     

         The sound that came from Angela's mouth was a wheezing, crying, gasping, guttural growl; the type of noise that can only be produced when one fears for her life.  She leaped to her feet and charged through the house, knocking into furniture and walls in the darkness.  She ran for the bathroom, and behind her she could hear little footsteps and the sound of high-pitched laughter.  She slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it tightly.  She flicked on the light and put her back to the wall.  Everything was quiet again.



         There was a knock on the bathroom door.  At first it was a light tapping, but then became an angry banging.  Angela stiffened as she heard the little voice calling to her.  "Don't you want me, mommy?  I have flowers for mommy."  Then she saw a little hand slip under the door and drop a crushed daisy on the floor.  She screamed as she watched the flower transform into a  another large black spider, and the room was suddenly plunged into darkness.



         Angela rushed towards the window, desperately trying to free the lock to open it.  She could feel the spider crawling up her bare legs in the blackness.  When she finally got the window open, she jumped out, falling ten feet to the ground and landing with a heavy thud.  She was crying uncontrollably as she scrambled to her feet and ran towards the woods.  It was only about a kilometer to the highway, and she decided to run there in hopes of getting help.



         "More flowers for mommy," she heard the little voice behind her, "Wait up, mommy!"



         Angela was running as fast as she could.  The sharp twigs and branches were cutting her bare feet, but she couldn't stop.  She glanced over her shoulder and saw the boy right behind her, clutching a bouquet of daisies in his hand....



         She could see the headlights on the highway and realized she was almost there, when she felt a little hand tugging on her nightdress.  "Got you!"  The boy giggled as she tried to break his grasp.  His hands slipped into her pockets as he stuffed them with daisies.....



         Angela felt  her pockets wriggling with spiders, and she was desperately trying to rip her nightgown off when the truck hit her.  She was not even aware she had reached the highway, let alone was standing in the middle of it.



         When the police interviewed the shaken driver, he said, "It was like she had lost her mind.  She just ran out in front of me, clawing at her hands and face.  There was nothing I could do.  I didn't even have time to touch the brakes."



         "Was there anything else?" the officer asked him.



         "Not really," the driver continued, "except I thought I saw a little boy standing in the edge of the woods, but when I got out of the truck, he was gone.  I think I was just imagining things."



         "We'll have a look around," the officer said and then suddenly stamped his foot on the ground.



         "What was that?" the driver asked.



         The officer shone his flashlight by his shoe.  "I could have swore that was a huge spider," he said, pushing something with his foot, "but that ain't nothing but a daisy blowing in the wind...."

© Copyright 2009 Grayson (allout at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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