Estimated reading time — 15 minutes

Lord, forgive me if I’m all over the place. The sheriff wanted me to ‘jot’ down everything that’s happened, or at least, everything that I can describe. They were kind enough to get me one of them assistive keyboards to type this all out. Even getting everything out there, I’m not sure they’re going to believe me, but they ain’t got a choice. I know what I heard. I won’t be able to forget what I heard.

See, I live with my family over in the woods. We got a lot of square acreage, so we ain’t got much neighbors. Actually, none, I guess. But we ain’t lonely. With me, Ma, Pa, Grammy, my siblings Chase and Tammy, Uncle Frank, Aunt Debbie, and my cousins Sarah Lee and Caroline, we got a full house. It’s a lot of work to keep a farm runnin’, and we need all hands on deck. Only, I can’t help as much as I want to, on account of me being blind. Pa says I do more than enough, but I still try to help wherever I can.

Anyway, everything started this morning. Everything started off normal. Rooster crows got me up, and I got ready for the day, headin’ downstairs to help Ma with breakfast. The smell of syrup and fresh bacon led me right to her. I remember hearing Pa say g’morning, his voice always reminding me of a far-off storm, with its rumbling. I’m gonna miss hearing him speak.

“Mornin’, Pa.” I replied back to him. “Everyone else still sleeping?”

“Nah, Wyatt. Yer cousins are out with the cows. I tried waking your siblings up, but they’ll sleep like the dead if they don’t get their breakfast first.”

Ma pitched in, her voice like the soft ring of a wind chime. “Well, I’m almost done here, so they should come barreling down soon.”

On cue, the rapid, clumsy footsteps alerted me of my incoming brother and sister.

“Mornin’ Pa, Ma, Wyatt.” Whenever my older brother Chase spoke, it felt like his mouth was racing to get out what he wanted to say, before his mind was made up on the words.

My younger sister Tammy, however, was more gentle. “Ma, can I have some orange juice?”

I helped my mom get Tammy a glass of juice, and breakfast went on as normal. We talked about nothing in particular- just what needed to get done for the day, what the weather would be like. Normal, nothing stuff. The first sign of something wrong was when Aunt Debbie came in. Her voice was always yipping, like a small dog.

“Any ya’ll seen Frank? Is that lazy sunuva gun still sleeping?” She chirped as I could hear her walk towards the stairs. “FRANK! FRANK, GIT ON DOWN HERE, WE GOT THINGS TO DO TODAY.” I winced as she called for my uncle. By then, I would’ve usually heard his hobbling steps down the stairs. My Uncle had a bit of a limp, so it was easy to know when he was coming. Says it was from a war, but it was always a different war when you asked about it. He had a rhythm on how he walked: Tha-thump, tha-thump. Y’know? Only this time, I knew something was off.

I heard him coming down the steps, and it sounded normal. Thump-Thump. No hobble. I was expecting the voice of a man who smoked too many cigarettes, with a bit of a wheeze to it. What I heard was a really good impression of that voice: “Sorry, hun. Alarm didn’t get me up on time.”

No one acted funny when he spoke, but I know I stood up straight, hearing it. I was sure that wasn’t my Uncle Frank. I can’t tell you what was different. It was like if a famous celebrity impersonator imitated someone- hard to tell it’s different, but there WAS something different. Everyone else seemed unbothered, going about their morning. The front door loudly swung open as Aunt Linda cussed out Uncle Frank. As he passed by me, another piece of the puzzle wasn’t matching up- he smelled different.

No, hold on. He didn’t smell different; he smelled like nothing. That ain’t right either. He… took away smell. As he walked by me, it was like the smells of the kitchen faded away, and returned when he was far enough past. I should’ve spoke up, and said to Pa that something was wrong with Uncle Frank, but I don’t know if it would’ve made much of a difference, with how the rest of the day shook out.

I took off to grab the eggs from the chicken coop, listening to the symphony of clucks and feathers ruffling as I did my duties. The distant rumble of thunder marked rain, just like the change in the air pressure. After I filled the basket, I made my way over to my cousins by the barn, to see if they needed any help as well. It was easy to get a bead for where they were; they never stopped talking, always chattering about something or other. Usually boys.

“Morning, Sarah Lee. Caroline.” I stated as I got closer.

“Oh, hey, morning Wyatt.” Caroline had a higher-pitched voice than Sarah Lee, like she was always eagerly about to slip out a piece of gossip she had on the tip of her tongue. “We’re almost finished up with the cows now. Could use a pair of hands.”

“Sure, can do.” I smiled, finding a hay bale to sit on as I waited for them to finish.

“What about… Damien?” Sarah Lee asked, as I listened to the sound of milk filling a container.

“Gross, Sarah Lee. He’s nasty. I’d rather kiss May Belle here.” Caroline scoffs. There was the sound of a palm on a large hide, and the moo of Miss May Belle. Caroline laughed. “See? May Belle agrees.”

“Well, I think he likes you,” teased Sarah Lee. She shifted, footsteps moving into the barn. “I’ll be right back. Need to use the restroom.” The noise of her steps echoed into the barn, punctuated by the sound of the bathroom door closing, leaving me alone with Caroline.

“What about you, Wyatt?”

“What about me?” I stammered, feeling my cheeks grow hot.

“Come on, ain’t there a girl that’s always helpin’ you carry your books and stuff?” She pressed.

Before I could deny anything, there was a loud clatter from the bathroom, with a muffled yelp from within.

“Sarah Lee? You good?” I ask, hopping off of the hay bale.

“I’m good! Floor was a little slippery, is all!” She yelled back, muffled from within the bathroom. The door creaked open, and her footsteps approached us. Despite the muggy summer heat, a chill ran through me when she passed by- my sense of smell dimmed. Just like with my Uncle earlier. I wanted to mention something about it to her, but she cut off my train of thought before it could leave my mouth.

“Say, Wyatt, why don’t you go check up with your mom? She’s probably going to need your help with your Grandma.” Thinking back to how she spoke, I can tell you what’s wrong with it. It was a little too proper. There was also almost a faint… buzzing, to her words? Like TV static, or something like that. She also said ‘Grandma’, which was weird, ‘cause we all called her Grammy.

“You sure?” I asked, feeling in my bones that something was wrong. I felt her place something large and metallic in my hands.

“Of course I’m sure. Go on and bring that milk in. Me and Caroline will be in for lunch in a little bit. Just need to take care of a few more things before the rain rolls in.” She tried to reassure me.

Unable to justify my concerns, I did what she asked, hauling the milk container back to the main house, following the worn path back up to the house. As I approached, the door creaked open, then the voice of Ma, soft through the air. “Right on time, Wyatt. C’mon, give it here, then we’ll go make sure Grammy’s alright.”

I moved into the kitchen, helping Ma put everything in its place. With so many hungry, working people in the house, it seemed almost like she was tethered to the kitchen, always making sure the next feast was ready to go on time. Being near Ma brought me comfort. She always smelled like home cookin’. She handed me a small bowl of soup, and we set off. As we climbed up the stairs to Grammy’s room, I couldn’t shake off the weirdness of the day. “Ma… did Uncle Frank look different today?” I had to ask, since everything else about him was so off.

“What do you mean, hun?” Ma’s voice twisted slightly in confusion, or curiosity.

“I mean… I dunno. Different. He sounded like maybe he was sick or something earlier, and he usually don’t sleep in that late.” I felt stupid bringing anything up.

“Well… can’t say I noticed anything different. Though, I guess he did look like he was standing up a little straighter. I don’t think he took his cane out with him either. Can’t believe he hasn’t come back in for it yet.” Ma mused out loud as we came to my Grammy’s door. She knocked on the door frame- we usually kept the door open so anyone could see how she was doing as they passed by.

“Gertie? Me and Wyatt brought some soup. You hungry?” Ma asked, with the gentleness of a warm blanket after a cold, muddy day. There was the familiar sound of her rocking chair squeaking back and forth, though with how old Grammy was, it might’ve been her bones making the creaking noise.

“Starved, dearie. C’mon over here, Chase. Grammy’s famished.” Grammy’s voice rattled, like her vocal chords had holes in ‘em. She often mistook me for my brother. I followed her voice, handing her the steaming bowl. I felt her leathery hands on mine. “Yer a good kid.” She wheezed. A melodic ding went off downstairs. Ma shifted behind me.

“Oh, that’s the cornbread.” Ma jumped up, and I heard her move through the room. A solid thump almost reverberated in the room, as Ma cussed, before composing herself. “Damn mirror. Really need to move this thing.” She huffed. “Wyatt, you don’t mind keeping your Grammy company for a moment, do you?”

“Sure, Ma. Happy to.” I called out. The lack of response told me Ma was already halfway down the stairs.

I sat there in silence, as I heard the slurping and gulping of my Grammy devouring her soup. It made my stomach roll, I ain’t gonna lie. She started up some conversation when she came up for air. “So, Chase, how’s school?”

“Fine, Grammy. Junior year ain’t so bad. Teachers are real nice.” I told her what she wanted to hear for the sake of small talk with an old person.

She responded with another sickening gulp of soup, the heavy onion smell permeating the room like the worst perfume imaginable.

“You mind if I open the window, Grammy? Let some air in?” I manage to spit out in between short breaths.

“Sure, dearie.” She gargled, mouth full.

I moved as quick as I could to the other side of the room, fumbling with the latch for the window. It didn’t help that our house was old, and sometimes the windows liked to stick. As I was fumbling with the window, Grammy spoke.

“Y’know, your mother’s made this soup for quite some time. Why, when she was just a little…” Then, she gasped and got real quiet.

“Grammy? You alright?” I asked, wondering if maybe the soup went down the wrong pipe or something. But my Grammy just let out a pitiful whimper. I could hear the shuddering in her voice. I was going to call out to my Grammy again, or maybe call for Ma, but then I felt it. I don’t know how, but it felt like it wasn’t just me and Grammy in the room no more. My heart went nuts when I heard that first step on the soft carpet, confirming it. It was near where Ma stubbed her toe earlier. “Who’s there? Hello?” I quickly blurted, pressed up against the wall next to the windowsill. “Grammy, who is it?”

There was a pause. The air felt heavy, and my tongue felt dry from fear. Quietly, full of fear, and maybe some sort of emotion even my Grammy couldn’t process, she answered.

“It’s me.”

At once, the silence of the room was broken by the rushing of feet across the carpet, launching into a panicked wail from my Grammy. As fast as I could, I went to go get help, fumbling to get my way out into the second-floor hallway.

“MA, COME QUICK, SOMETHING’S GOING ON WITH GRAMMY!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. There was a clattering in the kitchen, and a whirlwind of footsteps clamoring up the staircase.

“What? What’s wrong?” Ma was out of breath.

I pointed toward Grammy’s room. “I don’t know! It sounded like someone else was in the room. Then Grammy made an awful sound.” I felt the tears slide down my cheeks.

Ma moved past me, into the room. “Gertie? What’s going on in here?” She called out.

A voice returned, sounding like my Grammy. “I’m sorry for scaring you, dearest. Just a little spill of the soup, is all. The heat caused me to yell.”

I moved closer to my Ma, and shook my head. “No, Ma, I know what I heard. That ain’t right. There was someone in here.” I whispered. Standing at the threshold of the door, the room should’ve stunk like the onion soup, but it didn’t smell like anything. Too many alarm bells were going off in my head. “Ma, that ain’t Grammy. Something happened to her.” I pleaded softly, to not raise any suspicion from whatever’s sitting where my Grammy once sat.

“Wyatt… Janet… come help me, please.” It crooned, feigning weakness.

I grabbed onto my Ma’s arm. It felt tense, like she could feel something was wrong, too. “Ma. We need to call 911.”

We both began to back up. Then, whatever it was in the room, it laughed. I ain’t never heard a laugh like that. It was sharp, raspy, and mean- like a rattler made of razor blades. Then, the chair stopped rocking. There was a drumbeat of footsteps in the room, then the crash of glass that made me jump.

“Gertie! Oh god!” Ma gasped. She slammed the door shut and pulled me by the hand downstairs.

“Ma, did she just-”

“Out the damn window,” Ma confirmed.

Once downstairs, I pulled out my phone, while Ma loudly, frantically moved to each window to look for any signs of ‘Grammy’. I dialed 911.

“Hello, 911, what’s your emergency?” The calm voice on the other end said.

“Hey, my Grandma just jumped out the second story window. We probably need an ambulance.” I felt crazy saying it out loud. My Grandma could barely walk, let alone sprint and dive out a window.

“Alright, what’s your address? We’ll send police and medical out.”

I provided them with my information. In the background, I could tell Ma was getting more and more panicked, not seeing ‘Grammy’ outside. Her breathing was getting quicker.

“Okay, storm’s picked up over here, so we’ll get out there as fast as we can.” The woman on the other end stated.

“Thank you.” I hung up the phone. “Ma, police are on the way.”

Ma closed the distance, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Wyatt, what’s going on?” She tried to speak in a way that was calming, but she was too frazzled herself to remain calm.

“I don’t know, Ma. Something’s wrong, though. Uncle Frank, Sarah Lee, Grammy. They ain’t right. They don’t sound right, and they don’t smell right. They don’t smell like nothing.”

Ma remained quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what was happening. “Something didn’t look right with your Grammy.” she confessed. “I took a closer look at her, from what you said about Uncle Frank earlier. Her skin was a little glossy. Like glass, or something.”

The front door swung open loudly. I could hear Ma sigh in relief as my Pa spoke. “Janet, what’s going on? I heard a crash, and the window’s out.” As he approached us, his smell of faint tobacco told me he was safe.

“My mother jumped out the upstairs window, but something’s going on-”

“What?!” Pa was alarmed, but my mother interjected.

“Chris, hold on. Some of the family ain’t acting right. They might be sick or something. Gertie sounded all wrong, and she made a noise that I never heard before. Wyatt called 911, so they should be here soon.”

“Is it just Gertie? Who else is sick?” He asked, the rough edges of his voice softening slightly.

“Uncle Frank, Sarah Lee, Grammy…” I hesitated. Sickness. I didn’t believe it was a sickness, but whatever it was, maybe it could spread like a sickness. “Pa, Sarah Lee was with Caroline, and Aunt Debbie was with Uncle Frank. Something might’ve happened to them. Where’s Chase and Tammy?”

I could feel Pa shift to head back out. “They were with me by the corn field. I told them to stay put when we heard the noise. I’ll go get them. Lock the doors behind me, alright? We’ll keep the sick outside in the fresh air, hopefully they don’t spread what they got.”

I nodded. Before he could make it out of the door, a faint sobbing grew louder and louder from outside. I recognized it immediately as Tammy. Pa swung the door open, calling out to her.

“Tammy! Git on in here! Where’s your brother? What’s wrong?” The panicked sobs and wails from my little sister were heartbreaking.

“Close the door, Pa! Lock it! Something took Chase!” she cried as she barreled inside. I heard her embrace Ma, her cries muffled.

“Tammy, what happened?” I asked, hearing the click of the front door lock.

It took Tammy a few moments of choking on tears and snot to compose herself enough to explain the nightmare she went through.

“Pa… when we heard the noise, he told us to stay put, and we did. Chase took out his phone to check something, and that’s when….” She whimpered, and the tears started flowing again. “A hand came out of his phone and grabbed him! It grabbed Chase, and pulled!” I could hear from the shuddering in her voice that she was shaking in fear. Ma must have pulled her close to comfort her.

“The phone grabbed Chase?” Pa sounded stunned. I never heard him so shocked before.

“Uh-huh! It grabbed Chase, and pulled him in. I ran, Pa. I’m sorry.”

Something clicked in my head. “Mirrors.” I muttered. It was a stretch, but it was the only thing I could think of that made a lick of sense.

“What?” Ma asked.

“Mirrors. I think it’s the mirrors.” I stammered, trying to put the pieces together. “Sarah Lee started acting different after she went to the bathroom. There was someone by the mirror in Grammy’s room. Now Chase got grabbed by his phone.”

It sounded insane out loud, but no one said as much.

“But… you used your phone earlier.” There was hesitation in Ma’s words.

I didn’t have an answer for this. She was right- why hadn’t I been grabbed? I was in the room with the mirror when Grammy was attacked, and I used my phone just fine.

Dad spoke up as he moved about the house to lock every door to the outside. “Right now, we just stay right here in the kitchen and wait for the deputies. Stay away from any mirrors or anything like that.”

He returned to us, and we stayed huddled for a few minutes as a family. The storm clouds rumbled overhead, signifying their impending release. That was the last moment of calm before things got bad.

The first domino was Aunt Debbie frantically trying the front door. “LET ME IN! OH JESUS, LET ME IN!” She wailed, the doorknob rattling. Pa rustled for something in the closet, followed by the distinct sound of shells entering a chamber. There was a click by the front door. It was opened for a brief moment, then shut and locked again. Aunt Debbie was talking a million miles per hour.

“Something’s wrong with Frank! He’s been acting strange all morning, and he tried to push me into the bathroom! The girls ain’t right either, they were just watching him do it! I got away, and they started chasing me!” Her panic sent her voice to an unbearable pitch.

“Deb, take a breath.” Pa tried to calm her down. “Sheriffs are on the way. ‘Sides, it don’t look like any of them followed you up to the house.”

I could hear Aunt Debbie pacing the floor. “What’s going on?”

“It’s going to sound crazy but… Body-Snatchers, or some damn thing like that.” Pa was having a hard time forming the words.

Aunt Debbie just scoffed. “You’re a moron, Chris. You hearing yourself? Body-Snatchin’? This ain’t a Sci-Fi movie.” She moved towards the back door, probably to look out the back window.

Pa moved his way back to us. “I know I sound stupid, but I’m telling you what’s happening.”

There wasn’t a response from Aunt Debbie. The house was still, the only noise from the ticking of a clock on a wall. Then came the rain. A few pitter-patters were quickly built into a roar, like hearing a theater in full applause while you’re outside of it. Each thunderclap rattled the foundation of our old home.

It was in the storm that Aunt Debbie spoke up again, from down the hallway. Her voice was no longer panicked. Her voice was no longer fully hers.

“I looked, you know. It’s really not so bad. You should look too. Take a moment to reflect.” My gut churned when the back door click open. Footsteps. Plenty of them, squeaking down the corridor.

Pa racked his gun. “STAY BACK.” He bellowed, doing what he could to stay strong.

The footsteps slowed, but didn’t stop. “Come on, Chris. Things will be better this way.” It was Uncle Frank.

Pa called out again. “You stay right there, I mean it!” But the footsteps marched on.

“C’mon, dearies. Take a look at yourselves…” The thing parading around in the skin of my Grammy croaked.

The sound of the gun going off in the room felt like it ruptured my eardrums, leaving me for a moment with only a high-pitched whine in my ears. I felt myself being moved, led by someone outside. The warm air from inside the house was replaced with the icy droplets of water, spreading across my skin, my clothing. When my hearing returned, it was a cacophony of noise- swears from my father, the wails of fear from my sister, prayers from my mother.

“It bounced right off him… We need to make distance, maybe the roads ain’t too muddy for the truck- wait, the mirrors…” Pa was doing what he could to keep us alive.

“Our Father in Heaven, please help me and my family in this time-” The comforting softness of my mother’s voice was gone, and only fear remained.

The rain pelted us, our feet splashing through the formed puddles as we moved from the house.

In an instant, a yelp sprang from my sister as I heard her tumble.

“Baby, c’mon, get up-” Ma choked on her words. “Chris! Tammy! The puddles-” She cried.

The puddles. Something wrong with the puddles.

“Help! Help!” The panic exploded in her voice. She was thrashing, the sound of the storm mixing with her frantic splashing. I tried to grab her, but it felt like something was pulling her down.

“No, NO! Get off her! Get off me!” I could hear Pa struggling; he must have seen his own reflection trying to help Tammy up. “Close your eyes, Janet. Close your eyes!”

I tried with all my might to find my footing to help pull Tammy up, but the mud made it hard to find purchase, and she just kept sinking deeper into the puddle.

“Wyatt, please…” I could hear the water entering her mouth as she sank out of my reach, impossibly deep in the shallow puddle.

Pa’s sounds of struggles softened until all that was left was the curtain of rain, and my mother’s whimpering sobs.

Then it got worse. It sounded like something was coming up from the puddles.

“Don’t be sad, Mama. I feel much better now. Wanna see?” It was something trying to be Tammy.

“Ma, don’t look! Don’t look!” I yelled over the storm around us. I could hear muddy steps plodding up to us.

“Mom? Don’t you want to see your son? Look at how happy we are.” Chase’s voice was slow, clumsy, like he was digging through his gums with his tongue for the right words.

“Ma, please. It ain’t them.” I begged. I could feel the staring presence of the rest of the fakes, watching on.

Ma must’ve had a moment of weakness. Her screams, and the sloshing of water told me enough.

Despite being surrounded, I’d never felt more alone.

“Wyatt… you could join us, son.” ‘Pa’ spoke up. I felt a cold hand on my shoulder.

“Would you like to see, sport? We can do that, y’know. Then, you can join us.” My ‘Uncle’ chimed in.

I pushed away from them and ran. Unable to know where I was going, I just ran. A noise cut through the thrumming of the rain, of the echo of footsteps behind me.

A siren.

I was able to wave down the police car and convince them that my family was a threat to me. He got me into the back of his car and called for some backup. He brought me back to the sheriff’s office, where here I am, giving detailed notes of what went on. I can hear the officers laughing in the other room with my ‘Pa’. They ain’t gonna believe a word of this. That thing’s probably convinced them that this is all a misunderstanding, or a hyperactive imagination. Maybe they didn’t even need to be convinced.

Ever since the officer who gave me this typing device entered the room, I haven’t been able to smell a thing.

Credit: Derek Llovet

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