Nightmare on Octavia Street (2)

So a new year has begun. I spent it at Granna's and watched the people outside from behind the window upstairs in the bathroom. Granna was entertaining some of her friends in her music room. Mom and Caro are still in New York. Dad and his family went to celebrate with his wife's relatives in Atlanta. They asked me to come too. But I don't know. At Granna's I'm left alone if I want to. Spent most of the afternoon in our own house, by the way. It was great with all that peace and quiet and silence. But it was spooky too when I switched off all the lights. Made me think of when we lived in San Francisco. I mentioned that, a while ago. The house on Octavia Street?

Even if I don't really believe in ghosts, I still think I met some. Not that I have actually seen them, but I could feel their hair brush in my face, or smell what they had eaten. Do ghosts still eat dinner after they die, I wonder? Anyway, it was a rainy day and mom's friends were off to some cultural event. Mom, Caro and I were alone in the house and for a change, mom had time to spend all day with us. So it started out real promising.

Mom made us breakfast and all was good. Then we heard a noise, as if someone was banging on the wall upstairs. We thought it were the neighbours, working on their house again. So we didn't really pay much attention then. I think it was about an hour later, when Caro and I watched some old movies while mom was doing the dishes. There. That noise. Only louder this time.

Caro made a joke about ghosts and mom kind of freaked out about it. She wasn't quite herself so shortly after the divorce and all, so emotionally she was very uptight. Caro and I just sat there, waiting for mom to check it out. But she didn't. Instead she locked the door of our basement and switched off the television, telling us to be quiet. It was all so very silly.

The noise continued for a few minutes. Like it followed a pattern or something. Waiting for a response, perhaps? Mom still smoked at the time, so she kept on lighting up one cigarette after another. Caro and I have never really been best friends being sisters, but that morning we were so on the same level. We both sensed mom was maybe out of her mind and we instinctively knew we had to be very obedient and quiet. The sooner it would all be over. So we sat next to one another, with our friend Puffy Bear safe in between us.