Fan Fiction ❯ The basement ❯ The basement ( Prologue )

Okay, I'm a little 14 year old girl living in the suburbs of Chicago. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I've always felt very uneasy in the basement. This incident only occurred once, and hopefully will never happen again. It's not the greatest and really isn't much compared to a lot of other stories, but this is my story. And I mean every word of it. I must have been about 12 when it happened, and it must have been sometime during the summer or spring, because it felt very warm upstairs and the sun was shining.

I've ALWAYS hated our basement. When I was little I used to have dreams about someone pushing me down the stairs and screaming as I went down. But, that has nothing to do with it. Out basement was always the dank and musty kind, with tile floors, the heating vents visible, stuff like that. We used to store my old toys down their and I would never go down there alone. Sometimes my friends and I would play down there, but I would always feel uneasy. My Mom had told me about how my grandpa had had his workshop down there, and he would always work on his watches, but, I don't think what I heard was my grandpa.

Before, my Mom's friend had stayed in the basement and I had actually gotten used to the basement, accounting that she was always down there. Even after she left after her couple month stay and I remember I always used to think that she was still down there, there was nothing to worry about. Slowly, I regained my fear of the basement, but it wasn't as strong. Mostly, I could walk down there comfortably and have no problem.

On the day I heard what I heard, we had run out of 2% milk. Me, being picky and refusing to drink the Skim Milk (it's like icky water, I think), I went downstairs to get the other gallon of 2% milk.(Our family consumes milk like water in a drought, so we always buy an extra gallon of milk). I went down the brown painted stairs, and onto the thin rug that always sits at the bottom of the stairs. We were going to be remodeling the downstairs, and I was a little worried about it, though I wasn't thinking about it at the time. I turned right and walked though the door into the laundry room, the most ominous room for me, where the other fridge was. I walked to the upper-left corner of the room to the fridge, and opened the fridge door. A rug just like the one at the bottom of the stairs is always in front of the fridge and I noticed it felt strangely cold. I didn't think much of it, as I have bad circulation anyway, and my feet are always cold.

I took a step off the rug onto the cold tile and my hair stood on end, I looked behind me, I don't know why, but I did. There was nothing there. I blinked and then I heard a man's voice. It was the voice of a man between his 20's-40's, he seemed like a normal man. He said: "Go.... Go......"

I'm very perceptive of voices and remembering what people sound like, and I didn't recognize the voice of the man. He became nervous and I had the feeling of being watched or followed, whichever because I was now rushing across the cold tile.

I walked past the thing that powers our heating, I remember looking inside it when I was little and seeing little blue flames inside, they looked like matches. When I passed, the little flames were very high, and when I reached the door, I heard the man again, only he was a little more cynical now: "You're mine...."

My chest tightened and I struggled for the door handle, letting out little sounds of fright as my cold shaking hands struggled to get the door open. I swung open the door and ran up the stairs at top speed. When I got up the stairs into the kitchen, my grandma was in the kitchen as usual, and she asked me "What's the hurry?" I told her it was nothing. I poured a glass of milk and never got another glass that whole day, because I was in my room for the rest of it.

I've only told this to my good friend Diane (who has Wicca blood, loves the paranormal, and does tarot readings) and her Mom. I haven't even told my parents about it. This has never happened again, and I hope it wont. The basement is fully remodeled and I am now comfortable down there. But, nothing has changed in the laundry room, not just because they didn't remodel that room, but because I still get that feeling when I'm in there alone.

You're free to e-mail me about it, though I doubt anyone will.