So, there I am in this almost empty house, my house, with nothing to hear but my own breathing. It is pitch black and I can barely see anything.

Suddenly I feel a cold breeze on my neck, as if someone is breathing down on me, but with a breath as cold as ice itself. I freeze, unable to move a muscle.

'What should I do? Do I turn around and look, or do I run in the opposite direction?'

I have to look... Something inside me forces me to turn my head in the direction of the cold breath.

Before I know it, I am facing the other way and to my horror, in front of me is....

Nothing, nothing but darkness!

'Am I going mad??? This can't be, I felt something, didn't I??? Maybe I am going mad...'

Just then my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of breaking glass in the kitchen.

I run to the kitchen to see what glass it was and, more importantly, who broke it.

I try to turn on the light, but nothing happens. Is there a power cut? Or what the hell is going on right now? The thoughts swirl around in my head, but I am quickly brought back to reality when another glass shatters right next to me, making me to jump. I turn to my left to find the broken glass all over the floor, a vase perhaps. But otherwise there is no sign of life in the kitchen. 'I must be going mad,' I think.

Just then, the lights come on automatically and what I then see in front of me, leaves me rooted to the spot and as pale as a ghost.

Standing in front of me is a woman, but she is not a woman, more like a dead woman walking.

A woman from the dead, wearing a black dress that drapes behind her. Her hair is the same colour as her dress and comes all the way down to her waist.

She would be a very pretty woman, probably around thirty, were it not for her grey and pale face, which shows no emotion whatsoever. Her fingernails are horribly torn in places and as sharp as glass itself.

I turn in one breath and run. I run across the hall, straight into the living room, trip over a wire and almost land face first on the floor.

I dare not to even look back to see if the woman is following me.

Once in the living room, I am sure I am safe. I stop and listen to see if there are any footsteps behind me.

When I am sure I am not being followed, I turn around carefully, still expecting to see someone behind me, like you usually see in horror films.

But then again, I am living a horror film myself right now. So why should there not be someone behind me?

I slowly turn around, many thoughts swirling around in my head at the same time, only to find that there is no one behind me.

Just then I hear the scratching of fingernails on the wall I have my back to...

The scratching is just as horrible as fingernails scraping the blackboard in a classroom.

I carefully turn to face the wall behind me.

In my mind I can already see the woman standing in front of the wall, scratching with her fingernails, making the wall scream in pain and looking at me with a horrible smile on her face.

But as soon as I face the wall, the scratching stops and nobody is there. There are only traces of fingernail marks on the wall, with blood trickling down on the ends where the scratches end. The marks look like they were made by very sharp fingernails, I for instance could not have made them and that although I do have relatively long nails.

Once again, I am rooted to the spot.

'This house is a nightmare!!! Why am I stuck in a horror film???'

I try to run for the door, but as soon as I move a foot forward, something flies in my direction. It is a picture of flowers in a vase. But these flowers are painted to look dead. I have no recollection of ever having seen this picture before, all I know is that I certainly did not draw it.

But my mind quickly moves away from the painting. Someone is clearly trying to keep me away from the front door.

I take another step forward and something else flies past me. I have to duck quickly to avoid being hit. Whatever it was lands across the hall from me, shattering against the wall before hitting the floor.

I take another step forward and then another, things flying past me in all directions. I keep ducking or jumping to avoid being hit.

I feel a bit like I am being put to the test, like on TV, where someone has to pass obstacles without falling or getting hit to reach the trophy and win. Except that this is definitely not a game.

'I need to figure out a way to get out of here somehow,' I think, looking around for a way out.

But I cannot seem to find a way out. As soon as I get near the window or the front door, the woman reappears and, with a single movement of her arm, throws me across the room.

By now my whole body is aching and I barely have the strength to get up.

'There's no way I am getting out on my own. I need help. There must be someone out there who can help me. But how do I find that someone?'

Just then I have an idea. I pull myself up from the floor and make my way to the cupboard on the left side of the living room as quickly as I can. I still have to duck because things are flying past me in all directions.

I grab the phone book and run to the nearest hiding place, which in this case is the broom closet to my left, where I hope to be safe for now.

I start flipping through the pages, quickly, not quite sure what I am looking for, just hoping that something useful will catch my eye as soon as possible.

Suddenly my hand stops on a page that starts with the letter H.

Hunters for everything weird and scary is the headline. Underneath, there are a lot of different numbers.

I quickly decide on the top number and dial it. The phone rings three times before someone picks up. 'At least the phone works.'

"Hello, how may I help you?" a deep voice asks at the other end of the line.

"Yes, hello. I need your help. You say you specialise in all things weird and scary, right?" I ask frantically.

"Yes, that is right," the person on the other end replies.

"Well then, I have a crazy killer ghost keeping me trapped in my own house. I have no idea how she got here, but I need your help, please," I quickly explain, making sure I whisper so the ghost does not find out where I am hiding.

"Okay, then we will need your address and I will call someone over to you immediately," the voice on the other end says.

"The address is... Bow Street... house... house number 21," I reply quickly. I cannot believe I had actually almost forgotten my own address...

"Okay, just stay where you are and help is on the way," the voice tells me before hanging up.

Well, I was not exactly planning on going anywhere anytime soon. It does not look like the woman is going to let me out of this house anyway.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So I decide to stay right where I am and hide in the broom closet like a coward. But then again, that is what the man on the phone told me to do.