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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1578813-Hocus-Pocus
Rated: E · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1578813
Just a little story I wrote for the Movie Mania Madness contest. It's silly.
It was a hot dark summer night, but here I was with covers pulled up to my chin. Usually I liked to count the stars before bed but recently the night time had been eerie. At first I thought it was my imagination but now I wasn’t so sure. I started hearing strange noises the day before yesterday and tonight they sounded as if they were right next to my window. I peeked out from under the covers, my room had a soft glow to it; an ominous glow. The moon was gently reflected through the fog that seemed to be getting thinker outside.

Everyone had always said my mother had a gift, what some might call “The sixth sense ” she could tell when bad things were coming from miles away. Me on the other hand I could walk under a ladder with black cats zooming around in front of me without even realizing I was cursing myself or that bad luck was coming, but tonight I had a pretty good feeling something bad was coming.

Suddenly I heard a loud bang come from outside my front door. If I hadn’t had the blanket half in my mouth at the time I would have screamed. I lay frozen listening for another noise. It was quite, or was it. I could not tell if I was hearing things or making them up anymore. Then I heard a creak of a floor board. I pulled the covers back over my head. “Relax.” I told myself you imagination is running away with you. Another creak this time from the floorboards outside my bedroom. I heard the door squeak slightly as it opened. I lay perfectly still. “What can I do?” I thought to my self, “I could jump out, but what if there were more then one of them or they had a weapon. Maybe they will take some things and go.” I remained still hopping who ever was now in my room would not notice me. That when I heard the noise it sounded like whispering. Two people whispering in my bedroom, I strained to listen.

There’s never been a pair like us
We are wicked through and though
We like to make you squirm with fear
We only leave one clue
If we do not get what we want
Only one thing can be said
What lies beneath those covers
By tomorrow will be dead.

With that I heard another loud bang, this time I screamed loudly jumping out from under the covers. There was no one there. I sat in bed contemplating what had just happened. I looked outside it was beginning to get light, no fog, nothing out of the ordinary. “Was that a dream?” I thought to myself. It must have been. I sighed in relief. I didn’t think I’d be able to get back to bed, so I went to the kitchen to make some coffee. When I reached for the canister of coffee grounds I froze, the canister was empty, it had been dumped out on my counter and then used to make a picture. Well what the hell. It was large circle with two diagonal lines in the middle. So there had been someone there last night. That meant that if what the intruders had said was real I would be dead soon. This must be the clue this spilled coffee grounds. I stared at them for a long time. What does this mean.

I looked at the circle it was more of an oval and it wasn’t quite perfect. Suddenly my whole body froze, a stone it looked like a stone, and not just any stone. A necklace my mother had always worn, it was a small oval shaped rock with two deep lines in it. It had to be what the clue meant, I ran to my jewelry box and grabbed the necklace. “I need more help” I thought to myself heading out the door. I decided to go visit my aunt. She lived about a mile outside the village, in a small quaint little house. The village itself was very nice, small everyone knew everyone I had never had the urge to leave, well until now.

I recited the poem to my aunt for the 50th time. “ I don’t have time for this!” I cried “I need help.” My aunt was frantically paging through a book on magic incantations. “I thought you knew a lot about this sort of thing.” I added the tension still in my voice. “Elizabeth, I’m doing the best I can, I could have swore I’ve seen that stone before. Here, I found it.” I looked over eagerly. “Well this doesn’t sound right,” she started.
“What doesn’t sound right what does this mean.” I practically shouted. She looked at me and then smiled, “this says that you are being cursed by trolls, its says they are very easy to get rid of…”
“Trolls…” I stuttered. “Trolls… oh well that makes me feel better, can I go tell the leprechauns they have to wait a while to come over, oh I forgot I have a date with some werewolves next week, I’m sure they will be sorry if I die. What the hell are you talking about trolls.” I screamed.
“Do not be rude.” My aunt began, “I’m just telling you want the book says. It says right here trolls like to cause mischief they are tricky, tricky trolls, how cute that sounds…”
I stared in disbelieve at my aunt, “I get a death threat and you tell me tricky trolls are behind it.” I managed to stammering.
“See now Lizzy it says right here that trolls like to have fun but they are not dangerous. You must have misunderstood the meaning of the incantation. It also says they like to collect stones just like yours because they believe they bring good luck. Since they are causing trouble they would naturally not want you to have good luck.” My aunt stated as if it all made perfect sense.

Every thing I tried to say from that moment till the moment we walked back into the house was hushed by her. “Just trust me,” she calmly stated as she examined the coffee grounds on my counter. I placed the stone on my kitchen table and followed my aunt into my room.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of,” I thought to myself now close to tears. “Aha!” I heard my aunt yell from the other room. I ran in. “See here you go,” she started holding up a dead flower. See its dead and it was under your covers, it’s a joke, the trolls were teasing you.” She started while laughing, “This flower was under the covers, and it is dead, they never meant to kill you just make you think that”
I turned slowly and walked into the kitchen, my aunt was insane, I was going to have to call my uncle or something, get her put in a home. I started to sit down at the table when smack, the back leg of my chair broke and I fell backwards. “It’s the trolls,” my aunt began, “don’t worry I’ll just get rid of them.” Before I could say anything she started reciting a poem.


Abracadabra, alakazam
Go back from where you came
Hocus pocus, Sim Sala Bim
We don’t want to play your game.

“That’s it.” she said excitedly. I stood up and to my surprise the coffee that had just been on the counter was back in the canister. I looked down at the chair, the leg was back in place. I tried to think of something to say, my aunt must have made that up, none of this made sense. I decided it was best to go take a nap, I thanked my aunt who was happily humming to herself as she walked out the door, and took one more look around the kitchen. My eyes feel to the table, my necklace was gone. I decided I would never talk about the incident again and collapsed into bed. Did I just hear a floor board creak? No It must have been the wind.
© Copyright 2009 No more Rawr (icykittyofdoom at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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