Chapter 03: A Shadow on the Wall

Tom practically flew backward, slamming painfully into the dingy tile of the bathroom wall. His heart was now pounding a mile a minute, breath coming in quick, short gasps as he eyed the mirror fearfully. The dreadlocked teens vision seemed to blur for a moment, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, willing the frightening sight in the mirror to go away, to leave him alone. Slowly, carefully, the dreadlocked teen opened his eyes, drawing in a rattling breath. The eyes were gone. The only sound in the miniscule apartment that Tom could hear was the now slowing beat of his own heart inside of his chest. He stood there for God knows how long, back still pressed against the cold tile wall, still trembling. That heavy silence filled the small room again, and Tom couldn't shake the feeling that someone was still watching him, someone was still there.

When his heart rate and breathing finally regulated, Tom hesitantly stepped out of the cramped bathroom, cautiously looking around the apartment. It was almost too silent; as if it was all building up to something big.

And then there was a sudden explosion of sound as all hell broke loose.

Tom stumbled backward, finally tripping over his own feet and landing on the hard, cold floor with a dull thud. Every cupboard and drawer had flown open, as if a pair of invisible hands had roughly yanked them open. The plates and glasses fell to the ground, shattering on contact, the few groceries Tom had picked up earlier spilled from the refrigerator, jars breaking, contents spilling everywhere. The room had suddenly turned icy cold, but that was definitely not the reason Tom was trembling. The dreadlocked teen sat there, shaking and scared out of his mind, until everything had eventually calmed again, the room returned to the comfortably warm temperature it had been earlier. Tom could hear the cars racing by on the highway below, the yellowed city lights shining in the window creating eerie shadows and patterns on the walls and roof. Tom swore, for a split second, he saw the shadow of another person against the wall.

The small table and chairs next to the kitchen sink flipped over sideways, and Tom recoiled. The nineteen year old fished a cell phone from the pocket of his too-big jeans, flipping it open and hastily punching in a phone number. The familiar voice of his best friend answered, and Tom drew his knees up against his chest.

"Andy," he whispered hoarsely, "I think there's someone in my apartment."

There was a pause, and then a heavy exhale.

"What are you talking about?" Andreas asked, and Tom could hear the weariness in his voice.

"I think there's someone else in here," Tom stated again. He heard small voices and laughter from the other end of the phone. "Who's there?"

"Georg and Gustav," the other teen replied. "You want me to come over there, don't you?" It wasn't exactly a question; Andreas already knew the answer.

"Just don't tell them. They'll think I'm psychotic or something." Too late, Tom mentally reminded himself. Another sigh met his ear.

"I'll be over in a few." The other end of the line went dead, and Tom snapped his cell shut. He folded his arms tightly across his chest, biting distractedly at his bottom lip. He suddenly felt ridiculous, sitting on the floor, practically curled up in a ball. The tinkle of breaking china startled the teen once again as a single plate slid from an open cupboard, the door hanging crookedly on its hinges. Tom rose to his feet, pacing the room on rubbery legs that didn't feel like his own. He figured that he had already cracked and gone completely insane, because there was no way something like this could happen in real life.

***

There was an impatient knock on the door, and Tom briskly strode across the room to yank it open, revealing Andreas, who had a slight smile on his face, although Tom could still see the hint of annoyance hidden behind it. The blonde looked over Tom's shoulder, and the smirk instantly dropped from his lips.

"Tom, what the fuck did you do?" he asked in disbelief once he spotted the chaotic mess of broken dishes and food scattered among the floor.

"It wasn't me," Tom replied darkly. Andreas was looking at him in doubt, not really bothering to try and mask the look of pity upon his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Tom cut him off angrily.

"What," the dreadlocked teen snapped hotly, "you think I did this myself?"

"I… well, I don't…" Andreas practically wilted under Tom's angry glare. "I don't know. I mean, I don't think you'd trash your own place like this, but…"

"But what?" Tom snarled.

"All I'm trying to say is that ghosts don't even exist. You don't actually believe in all that paranormal crap, do you?"

"What else am I supposed to believe?" the nineteen year old replied, frustrated. "I obviously didn't do this myself. Someone or something else had to have been in here.

"But you didn't see anyone in here, right?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Tom," Andreas said seriously, stepping over the threshold and shutting the door behind him. "I think you should go see a doctor."

Tom bowed his head with a sigh, digging the heels of his hands against his eyes tiredly. "I'm not insane," he protested weakly. At least, I'm not entirely sure I am yet, he added in his head.

"I'm not saying you are," the blonde defended himself quickly. "I'm just saying that maybe you should plan a visit." Tom shot him one last glare before turning around and storming into the small kitchen area.

"Will you at least help me clean this disaster up?" he said, kneeling to pick up shards of broken china. His friend knelt beside him, wordlessly helping Tom pick up the broken pieces, tossing them into the garbage. They worked in complete silence for the remainder of the evening, the tension almost too heavy to bear.

***

The shape was still behind the mirror, watching in silence. The smallest hint of a smile played on its lips for what was the first time in years as it watched the two teens clean up the huge mess it had made. It figured that it had scared and tortured the poor kid enough.

For now, anyways.

So I've got a crapload of you guys adding me/this story to your favorites, but barely any reviews. START REVIEWING PLZ KTHX. ((((((:

By the way, only the first few chapters are actually in the horror genre. Farther into the story, it won't be so bad. ;)