A woman moved into her late parents’ house and started hearing weird noises from the attic. She tried to check but chickened out many times until her friend came over. They would have never imagined what was up there.
Gemma closed her book, took off her reading glasses, and yawned heavily, stretching her arms in the air with all the exhaustion she felt. The day had been too hectic after moving into her late parents’ house. Her dad died years earlier, but her mother had just passed from a heart condition.
Moving there had never been her plan, but she thought doing this was better than trying to sell the house at all. Also, real estate prices were enough to cause bigger jump scares than in The Exorcist, so she was ready for some deep sleep, and even her Stephen King novel could not keep her awake.
Yawning again, she placed her glasses and the books on her nightstand, turned off the lamp, and settled cozily in her new bed with her new blankets. But her rest would be interrupted soon.
“Am I afraid?” she asked herself, staring up to the door of the attic. The whining noise was still present. “I can’t be. I’ve been reading horror novels since I was ten. I can’t be afraid. Come on. Go up those stairs. Come on.”
She woke in the middle night, lifting her torso off the bed abruptly as if a nightmare had pushed her up and awoke suddenly. But Gemma couldn’t remember dreaming about anything. She looked around her room, blinking her sleep awake but could barely see the reflection of the moonlight coming through the window and reflecting on the floor.
However, as her mind cleared, she heard some strange rustling. It was coming outside her room – possibly the living room. Was there someone in the house? she wondered, not precisely frightened but not thrilled at all. She grabbed her glasses, which didn’t do much in the darkness. But she didn’t turn any lights on as she placed her feet on the slippers next to the bed.
Gemma stood up, grabbed her robe from behind her door, and went out into the hallway. Her house was quiet except for that strange rustling and the sounds of the wind outside. The noise got louder and odder as she walked through the hallway towards the living room and kitchen. When she turned the corner, she saw clear movement in her kitchen near the waste basket, a figure was rummaging inside it, and she let out a squeak before rushing to flip the light switch.
To her utter shock, she stared into the big wide eyes of a criminal who had broken into her house. At least, it seemed like he had a mask on, and Gemma screamed louder this time, which startled…the raccoon that had been rustling in her garbage bin.
“Shoo! Shoo! Shoo!” she yelled at it, gesturing with her hand. She hated animals in general, and raccoons often caused problems and probably brought diseases. The animal scurried away through her window, which he must have pushed open somehow. So, Gemma closed it thoroughly this time and returned to the bedroom.
She never heard or saw the raccoon again, but at some point, Gemma almost wished she had. She wished she had liked animals so that she could get a companion of some sort. After her mother’s passing, she felt lonelier than ever; perhaps a dog would help her somehow.
Not to mention, this house was eerily quiet at night sometimes. But other times, there were strange sounds. The creaking from the floorboards, although no one walked on them. The sound of water through the old pipes had become creepy as the HVAC system ran. There was also an owl who sat on a tree outside and hooted for several minutes before taking off into the night.
Although she had lived there before as a child, she never remembered her home feeling that way. Could it be the loneliness? she wondered on those nights. Is it making me crazy?
However, a new strange sound started on her fifth night at the house. It was whining. A haunting tilt she couldn’t place. It was not the owl or the raccoon. Well, she had no idea what kind of noise raccoons made.
But as she wandered through the house, turning on lights and inspecting every nook and cranny she could, Gemma concluded that the sound was coming from the attic. She almost climbed the stairs to check, but something in her heart stopped her.
“Am I afraid?” she asked herself, staring up to the door of the attic. The whining noise was still present. “I can’t be. I’ve been reading horror novels since I was ten. I can’t be afraid. Come on. Go up those stairs. Come on.”
But her feet would not budge. No matter what, she would not go up there. At least…not alone.
***
“I’m glad you invited me over, Gemma. It’ll be good to catch up,” Bobby greeted her. He had been her neighbor growing up, but they lost touch after graduation as they left for different colleges. However, she stumbled upon him at the market earlier that day and decided to invite him for dinner.
She told him it was for dinner, but she was going to ask him something. “Actually, Bobby. Before we catch up. Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Can you come with me to the attic?”
“Why?” he asked, frowning.
“There’s this eerie whining coming from up there. I’ve been hearing it for the last few nights, and for some reason, I don’t have the courage to go up there alone. Will you come with me?” she almost begged.
Bobby grinned slightly. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything. The brave Gemma with her Halloween books,” he teased.
“Horror novels. And yeah, yeah. I know. I’m a chicken. But please, will you come with me?”
“Sure, let’s go.”
The pair climbed the stairs, and Gemma shushed him when the whining started. “See? That’s the sound! What is it?”
“That sound? I mean… it doesn’t sound scary,” Bobby said, his brows going down in thought.
“Well, try hearing it at 3 a.m. when there’s no light, and this crazy old house is adding to the creepiness with its creaking and cranking,” Gemma dared him. “Let’s go find out. There’s strength in numbers, after all.”
They opened the door and went into the attic, and Gemma quickly walked to the middle of the room, where a lightbulb hung from the ceiling. She turned it on only to discover a bunch of boxes and nothing else.
“Where’s the noise?” Bobby asked.
Suddenly, the whining started back up, and they were both mildly startled as it came from a corner that the light didn’t touch.
“Watch out, Gemma. Stay behind me,” Bobby warned, getting closer to her, and they sauntered towards the noise.
“What is that?” she whispered, worried.
But strangely, Bobby’s stiff shoulders relaxed as his eyes noted something. “Oh, Jesus. Gemma, look,” he said, relieved, and pointed behind a box.
Gemma peaked her head in and saw… a cat with three kittens sleeping beside her. “Oh my god,” Gemma said, cringing at the animal.
“She must have given birth here and not too long ago,” Bobby said, his voice gentling as he got down on the floor.
“Careful, it’s a stray,” Gemma warned.
“Come on, Gem. She’s not dangerous. Look, she’s friendly,” Bobby countered and started patting the cat. “She must be hungry. Do you have any food we can give her?”
“Hmmm, sure. Let me find something,” Gemma replied and went downstairs.
She brought some tuna and water for the momma cat and watched her eat ravenously. Bobby promised to take her to the vet the following day, and they both went back downstairs to dinner.
Surprisingly, Gemma accompanied Bobby to the vet. The cat and the kittens were healthy, and Gemma shocked herself when she offered to keep the cat with her kittens at her house. Twice a day, she would come close, look at the babies and give the momma a gentle pat after placing her food and water bowls nearby.
Soon, she and Bobby found new families for the kittens, but Gemma couldn’t part with the momma cat despite her initial dislike of animals. So, she kept and named her Agatha.
“Very fitting,” Bobby commented when she decided on the name.
“I know, right?” she smiled, staring into his eyes and then looking back at the cat.
Agatha was not the cuddliest feline in the world, but every once in a while, she allowed some pats from Gemma and Bobby when he was over.
Suddenly, Gemma didn’t feel so alone, and the creepy sounds from the house that had been bugging her for days seemed to disappear. In truth, she was not scared of them anymore. She was lonely no longer. And Bobby?
Well, he came over more often until he never left.
