haunted

i am convinced

that there is someone else

living here too.

hiding;

i can hear her whispers,

her screams,

the rustle of her nightgown,

the creaking of doors,

her breathing.

i know she’s here.

my mother didn’t believe me at first,

but when my brother sleepwalked to the kitchen

and knocked over a vase in his sleep

although he’s never done it

in the eleven years he’s been here,

and I was terrified

because my pictures were falling off the walls

and I didn’t sleep that night

or the night after,

she hugged me

and slept beside me in the afternoon.

(in her room, because my room scares me)

i haven’t seen her yet,

but neither can anyone else.

just shadows,

traces,

wounds,

scars.

but she’s here.

and what scares me the most

is that I don’t know

if she’s

in my house

or in my head.