Haunting Myself


A haunted house. I was staying in the haunted bedroom, but I change rooms, the ghost doesn’t like change. I feel his anger. I move my laptop and music gear into my new room, playing a series of piano chords on a midi controller. 
A friend runs past, exploring the house. I tell her to wait, but she’s gone, rushing towards the sound of children’s voices chanting in Latin. I follow her, into a family restaurant. I torment a boy by flicking him with a spoon. Only he can see or hear me. I am the bad voice in his head, a demonic presence sent to drive him mad. 

Advertisements

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s