The Girl in the Photograph

One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until after school. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye.

His desk was next to the window, and he turned and looked to the grass outside. It looked like a picture.

When school was over, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran fast so that no one else could grab it.

He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was formed into a peace sign.

She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or had ever seen her before, But everyone he asked said "No." He was devastated.

When he was home, he asked his older sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said "No."

It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table and went to sleep.

In the middle of the night Tom was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After the tapping he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked toward his window, opened it up and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone.

The next day again he asked his neighbors if they knew her. Everybody said, "Sorry, no." When his mother came home he even asked her if she knew her. She said "No." He went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep.

Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the giggling. He walked across the road, when suddenly he got hit by a car. He was dead with the picture in his hand.

The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. Suddenly he saw the picture and picked it up.

He saw a cute girl holding up three fingers.

Last night, my son came into my room. I woke up to him looking down at me with wide eyes. This was pretty unusual.

He usually slept peacefully through the night, and never had nightmares of any kind.

"What is it, sweetie?" I asked softly.

"I can't sleep," he replied. His eyes began to water a little bit, but he kept a straight face.

"What's wrong?" I sat up and began to rub my eyes until my son interrupted me and pulled my hands away.

"Don't close your eyes, Mommy. It comes closer when you do that," he whispered.

I stared at him. Tears began to fall from his eyes, and I realized he hadn't closed them since he came to my room that night.

I looked out past the chilly, empty hallway and into my son's room. Nothing. After hearing my son suck in a horrified breath when I closed my eyes, something creaked in the house.

My eyes opened to a dark, mangily, hunched over figure staring back at me with white blood-shot eyes.

It kept its gaze on me, and mine on his. It felt like a staring contest, only, whenever you blink, you lose, and it moves forward to greet you. I always hated games like these when I was a child.

We've gone through two bottles of eye drops. Good thing I stocked up on an extra bottle; you might never know when you need them. The last one is almost gone though, and my son and I are drying up again.

The figure in his room made its move a couple of times from our mistakes and hasn't strayed from my doorway since.

Two hours. There's only two more hours until the sun is expected to come up, but I don't know if we can last that long. I remember how great it feels to envelope my eyes under my eyelids... It's at the side of my bed now.

My son cries with his eyes open, and it looks like it's helping him. It's too bad I'm the one with the case of dry eyes. And now, I can feel its horrid, stinking breath upon my face.