Here is one of the winners of the 2013 Scary Story Contest organized by Coquitlam and Port Moody public libraries and sponsored by The Tri-City News.
2ND PLACE, 11-14 years
Alone
By Sydney Lynn, 14, Coquitlam
You take in a shaky breath.
In.
Out.
There are murmurs.
Their words are indecipherable. Regardless, they never mean good things. There's a higher, softer voice, and another that is darker and deeper. The latter sounds almost angry; the other cowers in comparison.
In.
The voices disappear sometimes, when the lights shine through windows and erase the shadows. In the dead of night, darkness takes over. The voices become the only things you hear, echoing around your skull.
Out.
Murmurs and mumbles are filled with sepulchral tones, unnerving you right to your bones. Your body is awash with black fear; you can't think about anything else. They will come for you, and you won't see your parents' shining faces. Ever. Again.
In.
It scares you so, so much.
Out.
A keening wail slices through the air, and your hands immediately cover your ears. You let out a whimper, and it takes everything in you to not start crying. Emily told you that you were way past the age of crying over things that go bump in the night. But she doesn't understand. It's the exact same thing every night. Your mere hands are no shield against the shrieks.
They tear you apart, and each gap between the wails leaves you gasping for air.
In.
The deeper voice interrupts the wail, making you jump. Angry syllables crash through your mind, leaving your spine overrun with chills.
Out.
Stop, stop, stop.
But it doesn't stop, and you know it never will. The wailing picks up again, and shouts overlap. Chaos. Your heart beats rapidly, the organ ready to leap out of your chest.
In.
No one is here to listen to your cries and pull you from the never-ending darkness that is set to swallow you whole. You are alone. It is only you and the voices you hear.
Out.
You want to squeeze your eyes shut, but closed eyes means blindness and darkness and then you're not breathing and you need to tell your lungs to breathe but it's not working at all and then... air.
In.
The wailing stops suddenly, but your fathomless fear doesn't. You want to run away, as fast and far as you can, but you know you wouldn't last long out there.
Out.
It's full of them, and you've heard whispers about what they do. They fill the air with poisonous gas, and they kill anything that doesn't fit in.
In.
There's nothing to hold onto; nothing to keep you from falling into the abyss.
Out.
In.
Out.
A door shuts with a quiet click. A man's footsteps are soft as he walks over to a woman, who wears a somber expression. "So... anything you can do?"
The man shook his head, sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry; he's unresponsive."
