Antigonish (The Man upon the Stair)

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File:The Man Who Wasn't There.jpg
The Man Who Wasn't There.

Author's Note

If you have read any of my other pastas, you will know that I try and make them as true as possible. I got this idea from both the poem Antigonish and a friend who claimed she had a ghost of a man that would always sit on her stairs. I am not relating the girl in this story to my friend, as she is nothing like the girl in this story at all. This is from the perspective of a girl who is writing in her journal, and I will update it as a journal would be updated.

The Poem

Yesterday, upon the stair,

I met a man who wasn’t there

He wasn’t there again today

I wish, I wish he’d go away...

When I came home last night at three

The man was waiting there for me

But when I looked around the hall

l couldn’t see him there at all

!Go away, go away, don’t you come back any more!

Go away, go away, and please don’t slam the door... (slam!)

Last night I saw upon the stair

A little man who wasn’t there

He wasn’t there again today

Oh, how I wish he’d go away

The Pasta

September 11, 2012

I woke up for the first time in days this morning. I haven't left my room out of pure fear. Luckily, I had a food storage under my bed composed of a few boxes of granola bars and three bottles of flavored water. I know that it will not sustain me forever... I know that I will have to step downstairs eventually to get something to eat.

You are probably wondering how I got stuck in this position. You probably want to hear it, right? Well, I will force myself to write it down, as I know my death is near inevitable whether I go downstairs or not. I have come to accept that, and to understand my feelings, my pain... you will have to hear the story from a first-hand experience. I'm a party girl. I stay up late, make out with guys, and drink my cares away most every night. I'm in college in beauty school, barely passing because of my hardy behavior. So maybe I deserve what's happening to me. Maybe my sins are literally haunting me.

The last night I can remember having thus far, I arrived home quite later than usual, what I presume to be about three in the morning. I performed my ritual of drinking my sleep-aid tea and throwing my rancid smelling clothing straight into the washing machine. I slumped over my couch and flipped on Adult Swim, which is what I usually do unless I have a boy over.

Just as I clicked the POWER ON button on the remote, I heard a creak coming from the stairs. I shook it off, figuring it was just the booze talking, but then I heard it again, and again... it just wouldn't stop. My stairs were now constantly creaking and I had started twitching out of pure curiosity.

If you haven't guessed already, I'm the most curious girl you will ever meet. If a pin was missing from my counter, I would go on a rigorous quest to find it, and figure out what happened. My parents, before they passed away, always told me I would be a good detective. I guess I just like making people look beautiful more than CSI work.

The stairs had stopped creaking the moment I stood up. I slowly inched over to the stairs, every step causing another deep breath. With on more step before turning the corner, I paused and took a deep, long breath. I glanced over at my clock, which, to my surprise, had been reset and was stuck flashing at 12:00 A.M. I didn't remember resetting my clock... but then again, I couldn't even remember what I ate for lunch. So I shrugged that off and turned to the stairs.

What I saw freaked me out more than anything ever has in my life, and I don't get scared easily at all. What I saw, was, admittedly... absolutely nothing. Nothing. I was struck by how on earth the floor could be creaking. I figured it was just mice, but then I noticed the open window. I know for a solid fact that I closed the window before I left, because I am incredibly OCD with my windows. I took a single step on the stairs, and heard a very quiet hissing sound. Three steps up, and the hissing was practically penetrating my brain. I kept going up the stairs, and the hissing kept getting louder and louder. I literally crawled to the window due to the pain in my head and slammed it shut as hard as I could. The hissing abruptly stopped. I closed my eyes, slumped down on the floor, and listened to the sweet silence, trying to regain my sanity bit by bit. After my vision cleared, I looked around the hall. Everything seemed normal again, but I had a looming feeling something was still wrong, like something was watching me... coming for me... touching me!!

I cranked my head over my shoulder to see a man with one dangling eyeball, a crooked smile, and many missing teeth, staring back at me. From the feel of his hand on my shoulder, he only had three fingers. I stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, then he started making a gurgling noise as tendrils extended from his mouth and reached towards me.

I ran. I ran as fast as I could, not even knowing where I was going, still hearing gurgling behind me...

That's all I can remember. I'm guessing I somehow made it into my room and blockaded the door. Maybe he had given up, but his curse still loomed. I may have been in a coma, I may have been awake without senses... I do not know. But what I do know is that he's still on my stairs. I can hear gurgling... I can hear hissing.

I'm going back down the stairs. If I live, I will tell you the story of what happened. If I haven't updated this journal in four days, you will know I am dead. Pray for me...