The Barn

The Barn

written and illustrated by

ELENA ERACLEOUS

The old red barn looms as the sun begins to fade.

You never liked that barn with its imposing and ominous presence. It feels closer today than ever before.

Without delay you head inside not wanting to be left outside as nightfall came. As you hear your mother clean the kitchen you catch a glimpse of your father heading upstairs.

Before bed you decide to sit with your little sister Angie, as you do your homework. “She is such a curious child” your mother would say.

“She always lies” your father would reply.

Angie would always speak of tall shadows, sounds in the night and lights from the barn.

“It’s real!” she tells you as she furiously scribbles on a sheet of paper “Yeah right!” you shrug.

You always tease her and these “nightmares” she has, feeding into your parent’s prospection. But you know that there is more too this. That barn, something is going on there that you do not yet understand but are too scared to confront.

“Off to bed” you hear your mother command still in the kitchen out of sight, “Alright!” you exclaim “Come on Angie” as you reach out your hand towards her, she steps away from you. “Let’s watch a movie instead” she asks, you remind her “No Angie its late, we have to get up and go to Uncle Richie’s house remember?”.

“I don’t like Uncle Richie! He smells like tobacco!” she retaliates. You grab Angie’s arm and pull her towards the staircase. “I’m not going to bed!” she yells as she hits your arm, “Angie I don’t have time for this” you sigh.

At the top of the stairs, you tell her to go to her room, she shakes her head, “Can I stay with you please?” You yell at her demandingly “No Angie! Go to your room or dad will get mad”

You can hear your father call out from your parents’ bedroom “He’s right you know... don’t make me come out there...”

Angie looks on in disbelief and reluctantly heads to her room.

She begins to enter her room.

She turns and tells you, “I love you” and then closes the door behind her.

You head back downstairs to collect your things.

You finally see what Angie drew. At first it seems like incoherent scribbles but, upon closer inspection you see what it is.

The barn, Angie, and You. But by the barn you see two tall figures one of them almost looks female.

You shake your head and go to your room.

As you lie in bed you can’t help but think about the day’s events. It seemed like any normal day, but something was off about it, yet you can’t quite put your finger on what.

You reflect on the drawing. What about it seemed so familiar? “Probably just one of Angie’s nightmares she told me about” you think to yourself.

It appears, however, the less you try to think about the barn the more you do.

You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling.

As you do you realise how quiet it is.

Normally at this time, you’d hear your dad watching television.

Or your mom listening to one of her records.

But tonight, there is only silence.

As you lie there you become acutely aware of your own breathing and all the sounds the old house makes.

Are you scared of what goes bump in the night?

The shapes in the dark corners of your bedroom?

The feeling of eyes piercing into the back of your skull.

A creak from the hallway,

A faint knock from inside your closet,

What sounds like breathing from under your bed.

You agonisingly wait for morning and like a miracle it breaks.

Strange you don’t remember falling asleep. You get out of bed, open your curtains, and sit at your desk.

As you look out the window you see the barn and continue to reflect. What was odd about last night?

As you stare at the barn you notice its once locked doors are open, and with this you realise that you never actually saw your parents last night.

You snap out of your reflections and burst out of your room.

You run into your parents’ room and see a neatly made bed, completely untouched.

You feel your heart in your throat as you charge into your sister’s room.

The scene horrifies you; she is nowhere to be found

And yet it looks as if she was dragged out of bed.

You bolt down the stairs calling out “ANGIE! MOM! DAD!” and get no response.

You run into the kitchen; it’s a complete mess and doesn’t look like it’s been cleaned in days.

Shakingly, you notice Angie’s drawing on the table.

How did it get there?

You realise someone has written on it.

A wave of complete terror sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment moving even breathing, seems impossible.

You run to the phone and dial 911 but the line is completely dead.

You realise what you must do, you must go to the barn.