Horrible Harper

Chapter Two - Episode One

**Chapter Two**

**Scene One**

Harper sat in the corner of the room, her small body pressed against the cold floor, head buried between her knees, hands trying to hide the endless tears. Darkness crept into the room as the daylight faded, leaving everything shrouded in a heavy silence that seemed to suffocate the air. Behind these walls of quiet, Robert and Margaret slept in their bedroom, while Charles lay innocently in his bed, his little smile radiating serenity, unaware of the silent danger lurking in Harper’s shadow.

As the light vanished, Harper rose slowly, her steps whisper-light, yet full of determination and tension. Every movement, every breath, sent a shiver of unease through the air. She approached the door, opening it just slightly, careful that even the slightest creak wouldn’t betray her intentions. The corridor leading to Charles’ room stretched before her, dim and long, but Harper moved as though the darkness itself guided her, each step weighted with suppressed emotion and intent.

She reached Charles’ door, opening it quietly, leaving it slightly ajar, and stepped inside. Charles lay deep in sleep, his face radiating innocence, but his calm would not last. Harper’s hands reached slowly toward his neck, muscles tensed, movements precise. Suddenly, Charles awoke and cried out:

**Charles:** What do you want, Harper?

But Harper ignored him; her resolve was stronger than his words. Her hands gripped his neck, pressing hard, as though all the years of jealousy and hidden rage had erupted in this one moment. Charles screamed, powerless to resist, his voice echoing off the walls, shattering the night’s stillness with terror.

Margaret and Robert heard immediately. Margaret rushed forward, her heart pounding, eyes wide with fear and shock. She shoved Harper forcefully, sending her sprawling to the floor, while Robert dashed after her, his eyes a mix of anger and fear. Margaret quickly seated herself beside Charles, holding him tightly, as if trying to shield his small soul from the psychological storm raging around them.

Robert grabbed Harper, halting her, but held her gently, his voice trembling with disbelief and concern:

**Robert:** What’s happening here?

The atmosphere was thick with fear; screams and tears filled the room, hearts pounding violently. The once peaceful night had turned into a stage of psychological tension, where nothing was safe, and every movement carried a complete threat to everyone present.

Scene Two

Harper lay on the bed in Dr. Mason’s clinic, her small body curled beneath the blanket, eyes closed despite the subtle tension flickering in her muscles. Night had fallen, and a heavy silence enveloped the room, yet the scene was far from peaceful. Across from her, Dr. Mason sat on his office chair, eyes fixed on every slight movement, while Robert and Margaret stood beside her, their faces etched with worry and fear.

Dr. Mason exhaled slowly, as if his words could ease the heavy atmosphere:

“She’s asleep now… she will awaken in about thirty minutes. Harper’s condition is rare, but not dangerous. We can describe it more as a temporary symptom than a chronic illness. It cannot be treated with medicine; rather, it requires correcting the triggers that disturb her during the day.”

He cast a sharp glance at Robert and Margaret, as if entrusting them with the delicate task of monitoring their child:

“What happens is that the subconscious mind moves when the child cannot fulfill her desires or control her emotions during the day. It moves the body and executes what has been stored mentally with intense focus… Even if it seems aggressive, she is not responsible for her actions. You must watch her closely and avoid disturbing her during the day so that she can sleep calmly at night.”

Robert and Margaret exchanged worried looks. Dr. Mason continued with measured calm:

“Now, she is asleep, and we are attempting to help her forget the events of the day. Stay focused, and any aggressive attempts must be observed immediately.”

Margaret’s hand trembled as she asked in a low voice:

“Doctor… what is the name of this condition?”

Dr. Mason answered quietly but firmly:

“It is known as Sleepwalking, or Somnambulism. The patient is asleep yet seemingly aware; everything she does is beyond conscious control. Today she is sleeping during the day, but the device over her eyes tricks her brain into thinking it is nighttime… and we will see what the subconscious stores within her.”

Their eyes followed Harper’s subtle movements, every twitch of her fingers, every shift in her chest suggesting that something within her was unsteady. Robert leaned in slightly, watching her without moving, hands clasped tightly, while Margaret gripped the edge of her chair as if trying to anchor herself against fear.

Dr. Mason sighed again, observing the slightest movement:

“Remember, the subconscious cannot be controlled directly. Treatment lies in preventing triggers and correcting what disturbs her during the day. That is all we can do for now.”

A heavy silence fell, as if the room itself was filled with suppressed tension, while Harper’s body occasionally trembled beneath the blanket. Her eyes remained closed, yet it was as if she could see everything in the dark, every small movement in the room seeming like part of a continuous test.

Robert and Margaret stood frozen, breathing shallowly, fully aware that these moments were only the beginning, and that what might happen when she awakens could be shocking and terrifying.