The Girl Who Couldn’t Leave

The Girl Who Couldn’t Leave
By
Raman Jalota

   Pamela sensed someone standing on top of the stairs. She stopped rocking and slowly glanced up. There was a small, faint shape on the top of the stairs. A moving shape, like a little girl, jumping around, full of energy. "Melissa" the thought formed in her mind. What does that mean?
   "Melissa" she called out loud. The shape stopped moving, then seemed to look at her and finally disappeared. Her mouth went completely dry. What happened? Is there a ghost in my house? And is her name Melissa?
   As she sat staring at the TV screen, barely seeing what was on, her cat came flying down the stairs, her fur standing on end as she often did during thunderstorms. She curled up at her feet.
   When Mark came home, Pamela let him settle down before hitting him with the news, "I think there's a ghost in our house. I even know her name."
   "You have been saying there is someone here ever since we moved here. Now you say you know her name?"
   "Yes. This afternoon, as I was watching TV I saw her standing at the top of the stairs. I knew it was a little girl and I somehow knew her name. Melissa. I don’t know why that name came to me but it was there … in my head. When I called out her name, she stopped moving and disappeared."

…..

   The next morning was bright and cheerful. Pamela opened up the windows and let the sun in. She read the morning paper and drank her third cup of herbal tea. Suddenly a cold chill went through her. She sensed someone moving in the room next to her. Goose bumps broke all over her body. She tensed up waiting to see what would happen next. A very faint shape materialized in front of her.
   "Melissa?"
   The little girl nodded her head and stood next to Pamela unmoving. Pamela froze for a few seconds, then an overwhelming feeling of pity came over her. She stretched her arms out instinctively to touch the little girl, to hold her, to comfort her. The girl disappeared. Then she heard the footsteps. Yes, there she is … Walking towards the window … Now back towards me … Running up the stairs.
   She sat in her chair unmoving, not daring to look up. Her coffee cup slipped out of her hand as she heard a little girl's laughter from upstairs.

…..

   She learned to tolerate the little girl who would appear out of nowhere and stand around her or run to the living room window or just run up and down the stairs and laugh. Her body and face were never clear, it was as if a fog covered this girl who walked or ran taking little steps and stood and watched her anticipating her next reaction.
   And then the labor pains began. She called Mark at his work, “It’s time. We need to go to the hospital now.”
   Little Patty was born without too much trouble and was back home with Pamela by the end of the week. Pamela was exceptionally careful with her newborn child. She would call her mother in the middle of the night to ask a question or two, disbelieving her mother many a times but still following her advice invariably, and confirming the correctness of her treatments with her doctor the next day. Mark would come home and sit with Patty in his lap, baby talking to her and playing with her till she would grow either tired or hungry.
   Patty was barely two months old and had moved into the nursery with her crib, when the crying began. Pamela woke up the first night and went to the nursery. Patty was crying softly, obviously hungry. She fed her and went back to bed. As if in a bad dream, she heard the crying again. She woke up and sleep walked to the nursery. She could see clearly in the blue glow of the nightlight. Patty was blissfully asleep on her back, her face turned sideway and tilted back. Pamela stood still. She was now wide-awake. I heard someone crying. I assumed it was Patty. Oh my God! It must be Melissa. I had started to forget all about her.
   She went to bed frightened and upset. She listened. A soft sobbing was coming from the basement. She pulled her blanket over her face and tried to sleep.

…..

   The first weekend after the crying began, Mark was sitting in the living room with Patty in his lap. Suddenly Pamela stiffened up and whispered, “There she is. Do you see her?”
   “No I don’t see anything.”
   “Did you feel the cool breeze for a split second?”
   “No, I didn’t feel anything.”
   “Listen carefully. Do you hear footsteps going towards the window?”
   “No Pam, I don’t hear or see anything.”
   The little girl walked up to Mark and tried to stroke the baby. Pamela’s eyes were staring at him; she screamed “She’s trying to touch the baby.”
   Mark moved the baby from the middle of the sofa to the side of the sofa. Melissa reached up and ran her hand down his face.
    “Ouch” he screamed and touched his face. Melissa ran up the stairs, a soft laughter followed her. Three red scratches appeared on Mark’s face. Blood slowly bubbled through two of them and started to trickle down his face.
    Pamela stood staring at him, the color drained from her face. She scratched him. I saw it. My God! What next?
    “I saw it, Mark. I don’t believe what I saw, but I saw her scratch your face. Better go and wash your face. Give me the baby.”
    He ran upstairs to the bathroom. He suddenly stopped in the middle of the stairway, “I just felt something cold. On that step.”
    He pointed.
    “Yes, she just crossed you on that last step. She is down here now. Do you see her now?”
    “No, I still don’t.”
    He stared at his face in the mirror. What the heck is going on? Pam is right. There’s a strange ghost in our home.

…..

    Patty was almost five months old when one day Pamela awoke feeling very worried. Why do I feel this way?
    She walked into the nursery and noticed the side of the crib was down. Luckily Patty had not rolled far enough to be in any danger.
    Pamela pulled up the side and tried to think. Yes, I woke up around three. I picked her up and got the formula, fed her and put her back in the crib. I don’t recall putting the side down.
    She called Mark, “Do you remember pulling down the side of the crib?”
    “No, why?”
    “Well I woke up and saw it was down, but I don’t remember pulling it down when I last fed her.”
    “Maybe it just fell on it’s own.”
    “It has a latch and I make sure it’s always secured.”
    She sat in the living room and went over each step she had taken the night before. She had no clue. She gave up, got ready and got Patty ready and brought her downstairs. When she fell asleep she took her up to the nursery and put her in the crib, making doubly sure the sides were latched.
    A long time had passed and the afternoon sun was making her drowsy when she suddenly heard a sharp click and a sliding noise. She ran upstairs and stood shaking with fear. The side of the crib had been unlatched and pushed down. Patty was playing with her toes and smiling at the ceiling.
What happened? Who did it? Melissa?

…..

    And it didn’t stop. She started listening for the ‘click’ and she would hear it. As soon as she entered the nursery, she would find the side of the crib down. I have to do something.
    She paced back and forth then dialed the number.
    “Could I speak to someone dealing with paranormal phenomenon?”
    “That would be Dr. Nash. Hold on and I will transfer you.”
    “This is Jerry Nash.”
    “I am Pamela Sanders. Do you work with paranormal …”
    “Yes, what is happening with you?”
    “I … er … we live in this old house and we … I have been seeing a … a little girl … a ghost.”
    “Where do you live?”
    “375 Oakwood Street.”
    “Ah … one of those really old homes.”
    “Yes.”
    “Yes, quite a few of them have reported an apparition or such. How often do you see it … this … little girl.”
    “She is there constantly. I see her every day and she appears suddenly and walks around then disappears.”
    “You say you see it clearly?”
    “No, I sense her presence. Her face and body are not really clear … she appears to be … surrounded by a fog.”
    “Has it caused any problems?”
    “It has scratched my husband once.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “She reached up and scratched him, leaving blood and welts on his face.”
    “You saw it happen?”
    “Yes.”
   “Remarkable. Anything else?”
   “Yes that’s why I am calling you. She’s unlatching the side of my baby’s crib and pushing it down. I am afraid for my baby’s safety.”
    “Has it hurt your baby.”
    “No. No … All she seems to want to do is to pet her.”
    “I would like to come down and observe this if I may?”
    “What should I do to stop her from doing this again.”
   She stood staring at the phone. Dr. Nash had said, “Have you told her not to?” He wants me to talk to her!
    She had her chance. Later that afternoon Melissa appeared in her faint, vague
shape and stood watching her. Then she got impatient and went to the window. She came back and looked at Pamela, walked back to the window. She then ran up the stairs.
    “Melissa … Don’t unlatch the side of the crib.”
    She listened waiting for the unlatching sound, then added, “You can look at the baby all you want. Just don’t unlatch the side.”
   She didn’t hear any sound for several minutes and then ‘click’ - the side was unlatched again.

…..

   Mark stared at his wife. Has she gone completely mad? She has been talking to the ghost!
   “Honey, you are losing your mind. Don’t start talking to the ghost now. It just seems like you are losing it.”
   He walked over to the sofa and sat down. He put his arm around her shoulder and patted her. Melissa, who had been looking out the window, came running at him and scratched his arm. It had welts but didn’t bleed.
   “God damn it. Tell her to quit it.”
   “Melissa, don’t scratch Mark. He means you no harm.”
   She gasped, “My God. She shook her head. She doesn’t believe me!”
   Melissa was in turmoil. She kept walking to the window, coming back to the sofa, standing by the sofa looking at them, then back to the window and finally she would run upstairs.
   Pamela whispered her movements to Mark, “I am sure she’s trying to tell me something. Something is really upsetting her. What does she want to tell me?”
   She tried talking to her again, “Melissa, are you trying to tell me something?”
   “She’s nodding her head! I wish I could understand what she is saying.”
   Mark finally gave up, "Should we move out … for the sake of the baby?"
   "You know how hard it was to find this house. I am not prepared to leave."
   "Don't you worry about the baby?"
   "I do, but somehow I feel completely safe with Melissa, even when she is around Patty. I don't know why, but I feel she would never harm her."
   The next day, the cat disappeared. Pamela called for her but she didn’t come around. She looked out the window and in the front yard. She was nowhere. Late in the evening she heard her crying. It’s coming from the basement.
   She put the baby in the crib and walked down to the basement. She saw a grayish shape at the northwest corner. Her cat was pawing at the floor her claws almost bleeding. She stood shaking, not believing what she was seeing … her mind full of danger and fear.

…..

    Dr. Nash walked into her home, “Please don’t tell me anymore than what you have already told me. This is to help you understand what I am doing.”
    He walked into the living room and looked around. He had his hands out as if testing the air. He looked up at the stairs and froze, “I see her. She is standing at the top of the stairs. She is about three feet tall, light brown hair and dark eyes.”
    He waved his hands and then said, “Hi Melissa.”
    Pamela stared at him in disbelief, “How do you know her name? I never told you.”
    “Oh! I can talk to her. You can’t hear what she is saying but I can sense what she is trying to tell me.”
    “Can you ask her what is happening?”
    “Why are you here Melissa?”
    “She says … my God! She says; she can’t leave!”
    “Why can’t you leave Melissa? What’s holding you back?”
    He stepped aside to let Melissa down the steps and then followed her to the living room window, then down the steps to the basement. He came back up after a few minutes.
    “Pamela, have you seen anything in the northwest corner of the basement? That’s where she took me.”
    “Well! I found my cat there last week. She was clawing at the floor as if in a trance."
   “I don’t understand it, but apparently she can’t leave and there’s something in the basement.”
    “What can I … we do?”
    “I would suggest that you talk to her as much as you can. Treat her not like an adult but like a child.    She may improve her behavior.”
    “When will this end Dr. Nash?”
    “It will end when she can leave. She’s stuck in this time and place for a very important reason. It may take a long time to find out why … sometimes we never find out.”

…..

    The very next day, Pamela could make out Melissa more clearly than she ever had before. Gone was the grayish fog, now she could see a clearer picture … definitely more distinct than ever before, but not completely clear. She could see faint features and the darkness where her eyes should be and lightness where her hair should be. She continued to talk to her.
    That afternoon, as Melissa went through her ordeal of running to the window then to the nursery and back, Pamela called out loudly, “Melissa, I don’t know what you are trying to do, but do not unlatch the baby’s crib. You could hurt the baby if she falls off. Please don’t unlatch the side of the crib.”
It seemed to have an effect. When Melissa went up, she didn’t unlatch the crib, she actually stopped at that point. But about an hour letter the ‘click’ was loud and clear and she came back down, to the window and then down to the basement.
    When Melissa came up from the basement, Pamela held up her hand. She stopped right in front of her.
    “Melissa, do you understand me?”
    She clearly saw her nod her head.
    “Are you trying to tell me something that happened to you in this house?”
    She nodded again.
    “Can you tell me how long ago?”
    She could see her lips moving and her hands trying to count and show, but she couldn’t hear or understand anything.
    “You have to try harder Melissa. And you must tell me more than you have been telling me. I just don’t understand. I am sorry but you must tell me more.”
    Melissa was visibly upset. She sat down on the carpet running her hands back and forth on the carpet. She then ran to the window, up the stairs, unlatched the crib, back to the window and then to the basement. She came up and stood in front of Pamela, her hands spread out as if saying, “Now ... there. Do you understand now?”

…..

    Last night Pamela awoke with a start. There were strange noises in the house. What the hell is going on? Ah! It’s a dream. No it’s much more real than a dream. This is not reality but in a way it is. What’s that?
    A crackling sound forced her senses. She smelled smoke immediately. Fire! I must wake up Mark. As she walked to the bedroom she realized this was a reality within a reality and there really was no fire.
Melissa came running up to her and pointed down the stairs. She followed her down. Melissa pointed at the window. The house was on fire but the northwest corner of the house – the living room was relatively safe. She ran to the window and tried to open it. Pamela stood staring. Now, I can find out what happened!
    Melissa looked around then ran up the stairs. There was a clicking noise and she appeared on top of the stairs with a baby in her arms. The cries of the baby were loud and clear. That’s not Patty! That’s not her voice; those are not her blankets. That’s somebody else.
    She slowly came down the stairs and half-carried, half-dragged the baby to the window. She then turned around and stared helplessly at Pamela. Her face full of tears, Pamela ran to the window and tried to open the window. It was jammed. The window she had opened every day for weeks was jammed so hard she couldn’t open it.
    Melissa looked at her. Her face was wet with tears as she sobbed and dragged the baby and started walking down the steps. Pamela followed her and stared at the scene from the last step.
Melissa walked to the northwest corner and held the baby in her arms. They stood there all alone till the flames got nearer. Melissa placed the baby on the floor and covered it with her body. The flames slowly engulfed the basement and raced towards the two small figures lying in a heap on the floor. The two who couldn’t leave.

The End   3066 words

Copyright © 2004 Raman Jalota. All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

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