EPISODE 7 — THE GIRL IN THE CLOSET
1769 Words
Nora couldn’t breathe.
The closet door was opening by itself.
Slowly.
An inch.
Then another.
The sound of a child crying came from inside.
“Please…”
Nora stepped backward.
The little girl with the red balloon stood beside the closet, watching her.
“You wanted to remember,” she whispered.
Nora shook her head.
“I changed my mind.”
The girl smiled.
“You don’t get to.”
The closet door opened wider.
Darkness filled the space behind it.
Nora’s childhood bedroom suddenly felt smaller.
The walls seemed to be moving closer.
Then the crying stopped.
Nora stared into the closet.
“Who’s there?”
A child’s voice answered.
“Me.”
Nora recognized it immediately.
Her own voice.
Her voice at nine years old.
“Why are you crying?”
The child didn’t answer.
Nora stepped closer.
The floor creaked beneath her.
The little girl whispered:
“Don’t go inside.”
Nora turned.
“Why?”
“Because that’s where she keeps the voices.”
Nora looked back at the closet.
“What voices?”
The little girl lifted the red balloon.
“All the people who answered.”
A telephone rang inside the closet.
Nora jumped.
Then another.
Then another.
Soon dozens of phones were ringing at once.
Nora covered her ears.
“Stop!”
The little girl smiled.
“They’re waiting for you.”
The closet suddenly became enormous.
The darkness stretched backward as if the bedroom had opened into another world.
Nora saw rows of old telephones hanging from the ceiling.
Each one had a name attached to it.
Some names were familiar.
Some weren’t.
Then she saw one that made her blood run cold.
LEAH.
Nora reached for it.
The little girl screamed:
“DON’T!”
Nora stopped.
“What?”
“That one doesn’t belong to her.”
“Then whose is it?”
The girl looked frightened.
“Yours.”
Nora stared at the phone.
Its cord disappeared into the darkness.
She reached toward it.
The phone rang.
Nora answered.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice whispered:
“Finally.”
Nora froze.
“Who is this?”
“Your father.”
Her heart stopped.
Nora’s father had been dead for eleven years.
“No.”
The voice laughed softly.
“You sound just like your mother.”
Nora’s eyes filled with tears.
“Where are you?”
“Behind you.”
Nora slowly turned.
Nothing.
Then the voice whispered through the receiver:
“Don’t turn around twice.”
Nora’s stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because the second time you turn…”
The voice stopped.
“What?”
“You won’t be looking at your bedroom anymore.”
The call ended.
Nora stared at the phone.
Then the little girl whispered:
“He was the first one who tried to destroy it.”
“Destroy what?”
“The cycle.”
“What happened to him?”
“He failed.”
Nora looked toward the bedroom door.
“Where’s Leah?”
The little girl pointed.
“Outside.”
Nora ran to the door.
It wouldn’t open.
She pulled the handle.
“Leah!”
No answer.
She hit the door.
“Leah!”
Something scratched the other side.
Slowly.
Nora stepped backward.
The little girl whispered:
“She’s not outside anymore.”
“Where is she?”
The scratching stopped.
Then Leah’s voice came through the door.
“Nora?”
Nora rushed forward.
“Leah!”
“Open the door.”
Nora grabbed the handle.
But the little girl shouted:
“DON’T!”
Nora stopped.
Leah’s voice came again.
“Nora, please.”
The little girl shook her head.
“That isn’t her.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Leah doesn’t call you Nora.”
Nora frowned.
“What?”
“She calls you Nor.”
Nora froze.
It was true.
Leah had called her “Nor” since they were children.
The voice outside continued.
“Nora, open the door.”
Nora backed away.
“You’re not Leah.”
Silence.
Then the voice changed.
It became her mother’s.
“Sweetheart…”
Nora covered her ears.
“No.”
Then her father’s.
“Nora.”
“No.”
Then Leah’s.
“Nor…”
Nora’s eyes widened.
The voice whispered:
“See?”
The bedroom door began shaking.
Something slammed against it.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The little girl grabbed Nora’s hand.
“Hide.”
“Where?”
“Under the bed.”
Nora stared at her.
“No.”
“It’s the only place it can’t see you.”
“I saw something under there.”
“That wasn’t the thing you think it was.”
“What was it?”
The girl looked toward the door.
“Your first memory.”
The door shook again.
Nora dropped to her knees.
She crawled beneath the bed.
The little girl crawled in after her.
The space was impossibly dark.
Nora could hear her own breathing.
Then the bedroom door opened.
Footsteps entered.
Slow.
Bare feet.
One step.
Another.
Nora covered her mouth.
The footsteps stopped beside the bed.
A woman’s voice whispered:
“Nora.”
Nora squeezed her eyes shut.
“Come out.”
She didn’t move.
The voice became her mother’s.
“I know you’re there.”
Nothing.
Then the woman knelt.
Nora could see two feet beneath the bed.
Bare.
Pale.
Wet.
The woman whispered:
“Sweetheart…”
Nora’s eyes filled with tears.
“It’s me.”
The feet moved closer.
Then a face slowly appeared beneath the bed.
Nora nearly screamed.
It was her own face.
But older.
Much older.
Blood ran from its nose.
Its eyes were completely black.
It smiled.
“You finally came back.”
Nora crawled backward.
The older woman reached for her.
“Come here.”
Nora screamed.
The little girl grabbed her.
“RUN!”
They crawled out from the other side of the bed.
The bedroom had changed.
The door was gone.
The walls were covered with photographs.
Hundreds of them.
Nora looked at the closest one.
It showed her at nine years old.
She was standing beside the red balloon girl.
Another photograph showed Nora at thirteen.
Another at sixteen.
Another at nineteen.
Nora stared.
“These aren’t memories.”
The little girl shook her head.
“They’re possibilities.”
“What does that mean?”
“They show what happens when you make different choices.”
Nora walked along the wall.
One photograph showed her leaving the house.
Another showed her staying.
Another showed her sitting beside Leah’s grave.
Nora stopped.
“Leah dies?”
“In that one.”
“Which one is real?”
The girl looked at her.
“None of them.”
Nora frowned.
“Then why show me?”
“To make you choose.”
A phone rang.
Nora turned.
A photograph near the center of the wall began glowing.
She walked closer.
It showed a hospital room.
Her mother was standing beside a bed.
A newborn baby lay beneath a white blanket.
Nora recognized the baby.
Herself.
But something was wrong.
Her mother wasn’t looking at the baby.
She was looking at another person.
A woman standing in the corner.
The woman was holding a phone.
Nora zoomed in.
The woman looked exactly like Leah.
Nora whispered:
“That’s Leah.”
The little girl shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who is it?”
The girl whispered:
“Her mother.”
Nora stared.
“But that’s Leah.”
“Not yet.”
The photograph changed.
The woman became older.
Then younger.
Then older again.
Her face shifted through different ages.
Nora stepped backward.
“What is she?”
The little girl answered:
“She’s the one who started the calls.”
Nora’s heart pounded.
“Leah’s mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she wanted her daughter back.”
Nora suddenly understood.
“The seven-year cycle.”
The little girl nodded.
“She made a deal.”
“With the house?”
“No.”
The girl looked toward the ceiling.
“With something underneath it.”
A low rumble moved through the bedroom.
The photographs shook.
The phone on the bed began ringing.
Nora looked at it.
CALL FROM: LEAH
She answered.
“Leah?”
Leah’s voice was barely audible.
“Nor…”
Nora’s heart jumped.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“What can you see?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Then stay where you are.”
“Nora…”
“What?”
“There’s someone here.”
“Who?”
Leah began crying.
“My mother.”
Nora’s blood ran cold.
“What is she doing?”
“She keeps asking me the same question.”
“What question?”
Leah whispered:
“Where is Nora?”
Nora looked at the little girl.
The girl’s face had changed.
She was terrified.
Leah continued:
“She says she needs to find you before the house does.”
Nora swallowed.
“Leah, listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
“Don’t tell her where I am.”
“I won’t.”
A pause.
Then Leah whispered:
“But I think she already knows.”
The call ended.
Nora stared at the phone.
Then the bedroom door appeared again.
It slowly opened.
A woman stood outside.
Leah’s mother.
Nora recognized her from the photographs.
She was holding an old black telephone.
Her face was wet with tears.
She looked at Nora.
“I finally found you.”
Nora stepped backward.
“What do you want?”
The woman looked at the red balloon girl.
Then at Nora.
“I want my daughter back.”
Nora’s heart pounded.
“She isn’t yours anymore?”
The woman shook her head.
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“She belongs to the house.”
The lights went out.
And in the darkness, Nora heard Leah scream from somewhere inside the walls.
“NOR! DON’T LET HER ANSWER THE PHONE!”
Then the black telephone in the woman’s hand rang.
The woman smiled.
And answered.
“Hello?”
A second voice came through the receiver.
Nora’s voice.
But older.
Much older.
It whispered:
“You brought her to me.”
The woman began crying.
Nora stared at her.
“Who was that?”
The woman slowly looked up.
Her eyes were full of terror.
Then she pointed at Nora.
“You.”
A deep knock came from beneath the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
And the little girl with the red balloon whispered:
“She’s awake.”
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