A story from my grandma;

She used to live in a little hut somewhere in Mexico. She had one neighbor who was a grumpy old lady who decided to live right next to her despite all the open space. My grandma used to tell of the arguments her mother (my great-grandma) and her neighbor would used to have. She said it was so bad sometimes that she had to leave the house because they were so loud.

One night, her mother was outside doing some gardening. My grandma recalls the night as going accordingly. She was inside, heard an owl being annoying, her mother yelling at said owl, coming inside about 10 minutes later to grab a shotgun, and shooting the owl in its left wing.

The next day, my grandma said the neighbor came outside with a seriously f***** up arm. She asks what happened, so the neighbor showed her. It was a gunshot wound to her left arm. My grandma said that the neighbor did not leave the house at all that night, and that her mother shooting the owl was the only gunshot you could hear. She thinks the neighbor was a witch. I think she doesn't remember correctly.

All I know is that when I heard that story as a little kid, I couldn't sleep for days.

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carne asada

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Title: Dark reflections

Cassie reclined on the sofa, the soft, flickering television light casting shadows across the room. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, the quiet of the house enveloped her, punctuated only by the murmur of late-night commercials. As the clock chimed midnight, hunger rumbled in her stomach.

Sighing, she rose, leaving behind the dim TV glow. Soft footsteps echoed as she made her way to the kitchen, thoughts drifting. Her gaze fleetingly glanced out of the window, registering the deep darkness outside.

Through the yard-facing window on the back door, a crouching figure caught Cassie's eye. Her heartbeat raced, staring in disbelief, she felt the grip of fear take hold.

Hurriedly returning to the living room, she reached for her phone. It was her lifeline, yet hope plummeted when she grabbed it from the coffee table and attempted to call police—her heart sank, the battery was dead

The figure outside moved, its presence now indoors. Cassie retreated silently, finding refuge behind a bookshelf. Nestled against the wall opposite the TV, it formed an L shape, shielding her from view. Footsteps drew nearer, each sound a chilling ripple down her spine.

Abruptly, the footsteps ceased, leaving an eerie quiet. Shallow, rapid breaths filled the room as Cassie's eyes darted around for any possible defense.

A whisper, faint and ethereal, permeated the room, seeming to emanate from all directions. " I know you're here"

Trembling, Cassie pressed deeper into the shadows. The voice was eerily familiar, a haunting memory she couldn't escape.

A slight laughter filled the room "Oh, Cassie, there's no need to be frightened," the voice replied, laced with malice.

Minutes stretched like hours, and then it dawned on Cassie. The voice—it was her own. She cautiously turned her head, peeking around the bookshelf. Her eyes widened as she glimpsed a figure that mirrored her—same clothes, same body, same hair. The figure was turned away, facing the kitchen. Fear’s wrapped around her heart like tendrils.

The intruder she saw, was indeed a doppleganger of herself. The lines between reality and nightmare blurred.

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CascadedFalls

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