lightsoutemptyhouse

[lightsoutemptyhouse]

Day #4 - box.

i woke up to shouting. i didn’t want to get involved, so i stayed in my room. it was my sister and mum again, arguing about something. i don’t know what. i don’t care anymore. i just... i can’t.

Sorry. Too personal.

i didn’t see my aunt anywhere. she wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room. she wasn’t in her room either. i didn’t ask where she was. i didn’t want to know.

mum found me after a while, her eyes were dull and drooping. she told me to clean out my wardrobe. i didn’t question it. i didn’t want to make her angry. no, upset. that’s a better word for it.

so i started cleaning. i didn’t look at the clothes or anything. my mind wasn’t on it. that’s when i saw it.

the jewellery box.

i recognised it immediately. i got it for my birthday when i was nine. i loved it. but i remember throwing it away when i turned fourteen. i remember the argument with my sister, how she smashed the mirror inside. i didn’t want to look at it after that. i didn’t want to be reminded of that day.

but here it was. in my wardrobe.

i opened it slowly, carefully, even though i didn’t want to. the mirror inside was perfect. no cracks. no breaks.

i froze.

the reflection inside was... the same as the one in the bathroom mirror.

i slammed the box shut so fast i nearly dropped it. my heart was beating too fast, my hands shaking.

i thought about my reflection. the one in the bathroom. it wasn’t me. it couldn’t be.

a cold shiver ran up my spine. i pushed the box away from me and sat there, trying to breathe. trying to calm myself down. i didn’t want to look at it anymore.

i left it there on the floor. i told myself i’d go back to it later. but... i didn’t. i stayed away for an hour or two, too scared to touch it.

then something clicked. what if this was it? what if this could prove i wasn’t crazy? i could show my sister, show someone, that something’s wrong.

i went back to the box.

it was gone.

i looked everywhere. under the bed, in the closet, on the shelf. it was just... gone.

i finished cleaning, though every part of me was on edge. my mind kept drifting back to the mirror, to the box.

and now i can’t stop thinking about it.

i think i need to sleep. but i’m too scared.

—E.

[lightsoutemptyhouse]

day #3 - failed communication

i woke up late again. i didn’t check the time this time; i already knew it was too late to call it morning. i tried to tell myself things were fine, that i was just tired, that everything that’s been happening is just in my head.

but it’s not. it can’t be.

i thought maybe if i talked to someone, i’d feel better. my sister was in the kitchen when i went out, pouring herself a glass of water. she looked normal. everything about her looked normal.

i asked her if she’d noticed anything weird lately. she didn’t even turn around at first, just let out this heavy sigh like i was wasting her time. when i pressed her, she finally looked at me, and the way she looked at me... i don’t even know how to describe it.

“you’re crazy,” she said. just like that.

i told her i wasn’t. i said something about the fridge magnets, the lights, the way the house feels, but she just rolled her eyes at me.

“you need to go to bed earlier,” she said, like that was all there was to it. “you’re so tired, you’re hallucinating. just get some sleep.”

she said it like she was bored, like it didn’t even matter. then she left, slamming her door like she couldn’t wait to get away from me.

i stayed in the kitchen for a long time after that, staring at the floor, trying not to let it get to me. but it did. of course it did.

when i went back to my room, i shut the door and sat on my bed, staring at the walls, trying to push everything out of my head. i thought maybe if i ignored it, it would go away.

then i heard her voice.

“you’re crazy.” it was loud, louder than it should’ve been, like she was right outside my door.

i froze. she wasn’t supposed to be there. she was in her room. i saw her go in.

the banging started next. on the door, on the window, heavy and deliberate, like she was trying to get in.

“go to sleep,” she yelled. “go to sleep, you freak!”

the banging got louder and louder, shaking the walls, and i couldn’t move. i just sat there, my hands over my ears, trying to block it out.

then it all stopped.

just like that.

i don’t remember lying down, but the next thing i knew, i was on my bed, staring at the ceiling. it was dark. i don’t know how long i was out.

i don’t know if i was out at all.

—E.

[lightsoutemptyhouse]

day #2 - continued disturbances

i didn’t sleep again last night. i tried, but the hours just slipped away. it was almost five in the morning before i finally passed out. when i woke up, the sun was already creeping along the walls. i didn’t check the time; i didn’t need to. it was late—midday, maybe afternoon.

the house felt wrong as soon as i opened my door. it wasn’t just quiet; it was too quiet. there’s always some kind of noise, even if it’s just mum in the living room or my sister thumping around in her room. but today, it was silent in a way that made my chest tighten, like the air was pressing down on me.

i stayed in my room for a while, trying to convince myself i wasn’t hungry, but i couldn’t put it off forever. when i finally stepped into the hallway, i noticed how cold the floor felt. colder than it should be.

the kitchen looked the same at first—messy, lived-in. then i saw the fridge magnets. they weren’t where they should’ve been. mum never moves them unless she’s cleaning, and she hadn’t cleaned. the sink was still full of dishes, and there was something sticky on the counter from last night. but the magnets were rearranged.

it wasn’t a big thing, but it stuck with me.

i opened the fridge, just to do something, and stood there staring at the shelves. i wasn’t even sure what i was looking for. the air inside felt heavier than it should’ve, like it was pressing out against me. i closed the door and turned to leave, and that’s when i heard the creak.

it was soft, almost too quiet to notice, but i froze. it came from the hallway behind me. when i turned, there was nothing there—just the open bathroom door.

the mirror caught the edge of my vision. i didn’t look at it, but i could feel it. the light inside the bathroom flickered, but i know that light doesn’t flicker. it’s always steady. it felt like the mirror was... waiting.

i don’t know why it scares me so much, but it does. it always has. i walked past it quickly, keeping my eyes on the floor, but i swear i could feel it watching me.

back in my room, i locked the door. it doesn’t make a difference, though. the feeling followed me, like the silence had a shape, like it was something alive that slipped under the door and settled in the corners of the room.

i’m starting to wonder if it’s just me. maybe i’m imagining all of this. but if i am, then why does it feel so real? why do i feel like there’s something just out of sight, waiting for me to notice it?

i wish i could sleep properly. maybe then this would stop.

maybe.

—E.

[lightsoutemptyhouse]

day #1 - for the record

something strange happened today, and i can’t seem to wrap my head around it. it feels like i’m trying to solve a puzzle with pieces that don’t fit, or worse, pieces that keep changing shape. i went to the kitchen for some water, thinking nothing of it, but the moment i stepped in, i knew something was off. the house was too quiet, the kind of quiet that presses into your ears and makes you feel like you’re underwater.

no one was in the living room, which made no sense. mum is always there—always. she’s either watching her shows, reading an article, or fiddling with one of her puzzles. it doesn’t matter what she’s doing; she’s just always there. but the room was empty, like she’d never existed.

i checked my sister’s room next. her door was open, lights off. that wasn’t strange in itself—she spends half her time in her room—but something told me she wasn’t in there. i peeked inside anyway. empty. same with mum’s room: door open, lights off, nothing but silence.

i wandered through the house, calling out for them, but my voice felt small, like the walls were swallowing it. i opened the bathroom door. the mirror caught the edge of my vision, but i didn’t look at it. i never do. the shower door was wide open, the toilet door too. the lights were on in there, but somehow it made the room feel darker, heavier. like it was waiting for something.

back in the kitchen, i grabbed an ice cube from the freezer and pressed it against my face. i don’t know why i did it. something inside me—some strange, urgent instinct—told me it would help, that it might make everything snap back into place. it didn’t.

then i heard it: the sound of a tv turning off. it came from down the hall. i looked and saw my aunt stepping out of her room, turning off the light as she closed her door. she didn’t look at me, didn’t say anything. just went about her business like nothing was wrong. but something was wrong. i could feel it crawling under my skin.

mum and my sister must’ve gone to bed, i told myself, though it didn’t make sense. it was only seven forty. they never go to bed that early.

i went back to my room. i don’t remember turning the lights off, but they were off when i got there. i used my hands to guide myself along the walls, the way you do when you’re half asleep. my fan was still running, so the power wasn’t out, but the air felt different—thicker.

i sat on my bed, staring at the door. that’s when the light in the hallway flickered on. a shadow moved, and then the door creaked open just enough for mum’s head to poke through.

“have you had a shower yet?” she asked.

her voice was hers, but it wasn’t. her eyes didn’t seem right either—too wide, too dark, like there was something behind them that shouldn’t be. i shook my head, too startled to speak. she nodded, then walked toward the laundry without turning on any lights.

i waited for her to come back past my door. waited and waited. but she never did.

finally, i got up and went to check the laundry. she wasn’t there. the room was empty. the house was silent again, except for the low hum of my fan in the distance.

it’s been hours now, and i still don’t know what happened. maybe i’m losing my mind. i haven’t been sleeping well, and this could all just be my brain playing tricks on me, some misfire between my body and mind. but i keep thinking about the mirror, how it felt like it was watching me, how it always feels like it’s watching me.

no, i’m not writing about that. this isn’t about the mirror. not yet.

i just needed to get this down. if nothing else happens, i’ll laugh about it later—chalk it up to exhaustion and paranoia. but if it’s not nothing, then maybe this will make sense to someone else.

—E.