Mimic Me

“Did you hear that?” Christoper asked his girlfriend, who was scrolling mindlessly through her Facebook feed.

“Hear what” She replied, disinterestedly, maintaining her gaze on to her mobile.

“It sounded like someone said something”.

“I didn’t hear anything, you sure it wasn’t something on the TV?”

“No”. Christopher replied, beginning to feel uneasy. He was not sure why, but something about the noise had sent chills down his spine. How had Gina not heard anything?

“Well, what did it say?” Gina posed, with a wry smile. She was not convinced.

“I’m not sure.” He mulled it over for a bit, staring at the TV but no longer able to pay much attention to it. “I think I’m just tired, I’m gonna go to bed. Night.”

When Christoper was lying in bed, he began to reflect on the noise and why it made him so uncomfortable. He recalled an incident when he was younger, and his mother was still alive. He was standing at the foot of the stairs, and she was at the top, hoovering the carpets. Suddenly, there was a noise, which sounded like a deep voice shouting one sharp but inaudible word. He thought it must have been the hoover but, something about it had caused a wave of fear to cross through his body. This fear was exacerbated when his mother turned the hoover off and turned towards Christopher.

“Did you hear that?” She asked.

Christophers' heart started racing.

“Hear what?” He could hear the panic in his own voice, but this had gone unnoticed by his mother.

“Oh, never mind, must have imagined it,” she said, without concern and turned the hoover back on. Christopher had never mentioned this incident again and, once the fear had died down, he had forgotten it had ever happened. Until this evening, when he heard the noise which seemed so similar and sent the same shockwave of fear coursing through his body.

Christopher had been at work all day, and the day’s events had distracted him from the disembodied voice. He had convinced himself that he must have just imagined it. The past event was just another imagined noise that coincided with this one. He sat on the sofa flicked the TV on and began scrolling through his phone. After approximately ten minutes, he heard Gina call him from upstairs.

“Chris, can you bring me up some water please?”

“Sure, one minute.” He called back. He went into the kitchen and began to fill up the glass with cold water. As he did this, his phone buzzed. Setting the glass down, he picked up and saw a notification that Gina had sent him a text message. He chuckled at the thought that she had messaged him from upstairs instead of calling out to him. Then he opened the message.

Hey Chris, had to stay at work late today, and won’t be back for a few hours. Have dinner without me x.

His legs felt weak. He stayed in the kitchen, his feet rooted to the ground like they were in chains. Staring at the message. Was she playing a joke on him? Then her voice came again, from upstairs.

“Chris, are you coming?” It came more sternly this time. The voice was slightly deeper. Not wanting to give himself away, he called back. “Just a second, my Auntie is calling me”. He tried to keep his voice from cracking. Her voice had brought the same uneasiness the previous night had brought except now, this fear was amplified. He was praying it was a joke, but something told him something was wrong. He picked up his phone and called Gina. She picked up after a couple of rings.

“Hey, Chris, did you get my message?”

His heart sank. She was not upstairs; he could hear other people in her office in the background.

“Yeah,” He replied. “I was just checking you didn’t want me to wait for you for dinner.”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m gonna grab something on the way back. I want to go straight to bed when I get back in, today has been horrendous.”

“No worries,” Chris said, staring at the stairway leading upstairs. “I’ll see you later on then.”

Once he had hung up the phone, he stood in silence, waiting in anticipation for the voice again. Then it came.

“Chris!” It yelled. They were getting annoyed. “Come upstairs, Chris!”

He did not reply this time.

Then it continued. “CHRIS! CHRIS! CHRIS!”. It was a piercing scream now and lost the resemblance to Gina. It was a mixture between an eagles shrill cry and a woman with a deep, husky voice. As the screams kept coming, he heard banging coming from the room upstairs. The walls started to shake. Christopher felt like he was going to faint. His heart was pounding so fast and he could neither breathe or move. It was only when he heard the thumps start on the stairs that he ran out of the kitchen door and fled.

*

On that night, he had gone to pick Gina up at her work. He had decided against telling her about the incident. She would only think he was mad. But when they got home, he made sure not to let her go upstairs alone, just in case something was there. Nothing much happened when Gina was at home, but whenever he was at home alone, he would hear the strange voice, but it was different every time. Sometimes it was Gina, sometimes it was friends or work colleagues. The most unusual choice was his own voice. He was in the bath, then his own discernible voice reflected at him. “Can you hear me, Christopher?” He did not reply when he heard any of these voices. Sometimes they persisted and kept calling out to him, but when he did not respond, they did not get as aggressive as it did when it was Gina calling out to him. He considered confiding in Gina, but he did not think she would understand or believe him.

His mother had died five years ago, so the next voice was the most distressing to Chris. He was in bed. Gina was out. He could almost sense something was going to happen. He imagined he could feel breath down the back of his neck. Then, his mother’s voice, as a whisper, sounded right next to his ear. The closest the voice had ever come.

“Did you hear that, Christopher?