Read Online Fourteen Days by Steven Jenkins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steven Jenkins
Tags: Fiction, Haunting, Horror, dark fantasy, Novel, ghost story, steven jenkins, barking rain press
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a word to each other the entire journey. Pulling up outside their house, he turned to her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired. And wet. It’s been a long day. But it’s been nice to spend time with you.”
He smiled. “It has been nice. I’m gonna miss you when you go off to work tomorrow.”
She tapped his thigh. “I’m sure you’ll cope without me. You’ll have your new lady friend to keep you company.”
“Very funny,” he replied, fake-smiling. When he opened the door and climbed out of the car, his sock squelched as his foot touched the concrete.
But what if she’s right , he thought, approaching the front door. Would I really be alone tomorrow? And the next day? And the day after that? No. Don’t be stupid, Rich. This is Karen’s fault. You don’t even believe in ghosts. She’s just filled your head with this stuff, and this dark and rainy weather is making things seem worse. There’s nothing in your house. There’s no one in your kitchen. But what about Nicky’s talking in her sleep? How do I explain that?
When he entered the house, the lonely, creepy feelings began to resurface. In a matter of days his home had become a different place. Nothing like the wonderful first home together of five months ago. Nothing like the place they had spent a small fortune decorating to Nicky’s specific tastes.
Get a grip, Gardener. Focus! There’s no such thing as ghosts.
With the hallway lit up, he could see the kitchen blackened in the distance. He imagined the woman still sitting on the dreaded chair, waiting for him to walk in. Fighting off his anxiety, he headed straight upstairs, almost running. Nicky followed.
After drying off, they climbed into bed. The room felt cold and drafty, prompting him to check to see if the window had been left open. It had been. Nicky hadn’t seemed to notice the cold. She lay facing him, hugging the quilt with her eyes closed. “Good night, babe,” she whispered.
He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Night, Nic. See you in the morning.”
After a few minutes she had dropped off to sleep, leaving Richard alone once again, with the rain hitting the bedroom window hard, the chill in the air, and the woman in the white dress still on his mind.
And tomorrow was yet another day to be tormented by his own kitchen.
Chapter 7
Day 7: Monday
T he noise of the front door slamming shut woke Richard. Yet another almost sleepless night. He lay on the bed for a few minutes, trying to gather himself before climbing out. He sat on the edge of bed exhausted, his elbows pressed against his bare thighs, his palms rubbing his eye sockets. Groaning, he got to his feet, slipped on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, and left the bedroom.
Walking downstairs, he noticed the smoke detector. Stay bloody quiet , he thought, and carried on down into the kitchen. He poured himself a bowl of corn flakes and contemplated whether or not to sit at the table. Even though the dreaded chair was empty, he couldn’t get the woman’s image out of his head. So he took his breakfast into the living room and sat on the couch instead.
Flicking through the channels, he thought about what Karen had told him on Saturday about asking the spirit to leave. The idea seemed ludicrous to him. Why would a ghost listen to anything I have to say? Why would she even give a shit? If she used to live in this house she would have no intentions of leaving just because I said so. I know I wouldn’t be in a hurry to leave if I was dead, just because some new owner got a bit scared. Forget that .
Stop it, Rich . She’s not real. This is all coincidence. There’s no one in your house . He sighed. Real or not, she ’s got to go. This is getting ridiculous. This is my house and I’m taking it back!
With that, he got up and marched back into the kitchen. “Excuse me,” he said, trying to be firm yet polite. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re still here, and I’m sure you
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired. And wet. It’s been a long day. But it’s been nice to spend time with you.”
He smiled. “It has been nice. I’m gonna miss you when you go off to work tomorrow.”
She tapped his thigh. “I’m sure you’ll cope without me. You’ll have your new lady friend to keep you company.”
“Very funny,” he replied, fake-smiling. When he opened the door and climbed out of the car, his sock squelched as his foot touched the concrete.
But what if she’s right , he thought, approaching the front door. Would I really be alone tomorrow? And the next day? And the day after that? No. Don’t be stupid, Rich. This is Karen’s fault. You don’t even believe in ghosts. She’s just filled your head with this stuff, and this dark and rainy weather is making things seem worse. There’s nothing in your house. There’s no one in your kitchen. But what about Nicky’s talking in her sleep? How do I explain that?
When he entered the house, the lonely, creepy feelings began to resurface. In a matter of days his home had become a different place. Nothing like the wonderful first home together of five months ago. Nothing like the place they had spent a small fortune decorating to Nicky’s specific tastes.
Get a grip, Gardener. Focus! There’s no such thing as ghosts.
With the hallway lit up, he could see the kitchen blackened in the distance. He imagined the woman still sitting on the dreaded chair, waiting for him to walk in. Fighting off his anxiety, he headed straight upstairs, almost running. Nicky followed.
After drying off, they climbed into bed. The room felt cold and drafty, prompting him to check to see if the window had been left open. It had been. Nicky hadn’t seemed to notice the cold. She lay facing him, hugging the quilt with her eyes closed. “Good night, babe,” she whispered.
He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Night, Nic. See you in the morning.”
After a few minutes she had dropped off to sleep, leaving Richard alone once again, with the rain hitting the bedroom window hard, the chill in the air, and the woman in the white dress still on his mind.
And tomorrow was yet another day to be tormented by his own kitchen.
Chapter 7
Day 7: Monday
T he noise of the front door slamming shut woke Richard. Yet another almost sleepless night. He lay on the bed for a few minutes, trying to gather himself before climbing out. He sat on the edge of bed exhausted, his elbows pressed against his bare thighs, his palms rubbing his eye sockets. Groaning, he got to his feet, slipped on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, and left the bedroom.
Walking downstairs, he noticed the smoke detector. Stay bloody quiet , he thought, and carried on down into the kitchen. He poured himself a bowl of corn flakes and contemplated whether or not to sit at the table. Even though the dreaded chair was empty, he couldn’t get the woman’s image out of his head. So he took his breakfast into the living room and sat on the couch instead.
Flicking through the channels, he thought about what Karen had told him on Saturday about asking the spirit to leave. The idea seemed ludicrous to him. Why would a ghost listen to anything I have to say? Why would she even give a shit? If she used to live in this house she would have no intentions of leaving just because I said so. I know I wouldn’t be in a hurry to leave if I was dead, just because some new owner got a bit scared. Forget that .
Stop it, Rich . She’s not real. This is all coincidence. There’s no one in your house . He sighed. Real or not, she ’s got to go. This is getting ridiculous. This is my house and I’m taking it back!
With that, he got up and marched back into the kitchen. “Excuse me,” he said, trying to be firm yet polite. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re still here, and I’m sure you
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