Nighttime Hysteria

Nighttime Hysteria

by Nicholas Barnwell

Strange noises are no rare occurrence, especially in a house. But in mine at night, they aren’t rare. In fact, they’re guaranteed.

When the clock strikes 8, the noises don’t hesitate to show me they were just hiding, waiting for the moment I feel alone the most. From things falling over to floor boards creaking at random times throughout the night.

Last week, on April 2, the thing that happened almost seems impossible or, “too much of a coincidence.” A can of beans fell off the counter like someone pushed it, like it got mad at us for not eating it on time.

When I ran to pick up the can I noticed it landed showing the side of the expiration date: 4/2/21. Today’s date! If that wasn’t a sign, a sign that my little apartment in Crown Heights was haunted, I don’t know what is.

My name is Nick and my nighttime hysteria isn’t hysterical, so don’t laugh. But if you insist on judging me, come live it for yourself. Come and see that at the same time everyday, my house will speak and it won’t take no for an answer. See, I’m not mad because this is my hysteria not yours and those who fail to believe will soon fail to breathe because who’s to say your house won’t give you an eviction notice and who knows how they’ll do it? This isn’t about you; it’s about the recurring pattern of sounds that make my skin chill and my heart beat out of my chest.

“You’re hearing things,” my parents said, like I’d make this stuff up as if they were completely oblivious of what’s going on in their own home.

Is this all in my head? I asked time and time again even though I knew the answer but because everyone around me couldn’t hear it I felt as though it was all in my head. Was the house after me? Was it something I did, or said?

Was it strange that these noises only started to appear once our family decided it was time for a remodeling?

That’s it! The poor house just wants to be left alone.

“Dad!” I yelled. He replied in disgust, “Yes, son,” with me making the assertion “WE CANNOT REMODEL THIS APARTMENT!!!!”

“Why?” he asked, looking at me as if I was in delirium. You have to listen to me. I pleaded that our house is haunted and it’s only wish is that we do not change a thing about it. “Yes and it’s only wish is that we don’t remodel it. Wow, ok son, you’ve convinced us”.

There is nothing sarcastic or funny about this; you have no idea what I‘ve been witnessing, things like random falling of objects at specific times—crash—and just like that a wanky light bulb that was in the ceiling comes down with a face shattering into pieces. In utter shock me and my dad jumped up waking up my mother as well, “What the hell was that?” my father asked.

My mother looked at us in disdain yelling, “IT’S 1 IN THE MORNING.”

“See see,” I said as I was still trembling in shock. “You can all see for yourselves now.”

“That lightbulb was barely holding on; what makes you think this house is haunted?” asked Dad.

Yes maybe it’s normal for light bulbs to fall but not one with a note in it that read “Leave me alone or leave.”

“What are you talking about?” my dad asked. (I gave him the note which had fallen out of the lightbulb when it broke.)

“Ok, but what does any of this have to do with y’all interrupting my sleep?” my mom said, completely disregarding the thing I just said like it was irrelevant.

“Mom you ju—”

“No, you don’t get I WAS SLEEPING GET OUT OF OUR ROOM AND PLAY YOUR GAMES ELSEWHERE.”

“Dad, come on, you gotta believe me.”

“I think you’ve taken this too far, Nick. Time to end this madness. I don’t know how this note ended up here but it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that we’re remodeling the house.”

“I thought this is what you wanted. For years you’ve been begging us, harassing us on how your room wasn’t big enough, how you wished you had a bigger room and now that you get the chance you don’t want that to happen anymore.”

“This conversation is over; your mother is right. You’re getting suspicious over every little thing jumping to stupid conclusions.”

“This is real life and in real life houses don’t give you hidden

secret messages telling you to get out because it doesn’t wanna get remodeled.”

“See how crazy that sounds because it is.”

Leaving in disappointment, I knew that there was nothing else I could do to convince them. I felt that all hope had been lost and somehow I had to save us alone.

Sometimes people can’t see what’s right in front of them

Just like our Justice System sometimes the obvious isn’t enough. Crazy to think some people believe that Derrick Chauvin is justified in the brutal murder of George Floyd and blame his death on his drug use.