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“Come on, Kelly. What’s wrong?” I rested my hand on the dog’s back to try and re-assure her and was surprised to feel the hairs standing, just as on the previous night. “Come on, Kelly. There’s nothing to be afraid of. There’s only you and me in this house.”

I did not know if she understood me, but it made no difference. Reluctantly, she stepped cautiously and slowly up each step. Her obvious fear began to give me the creeps. I could feel the hairs on my own neck stand up. Talking to myself, I said, “Pull yourself together, Buckingham. There’s nothing here to be afraid of.” I had the firm belief that ghosts and hauntings were just the creations of authors who had taken illegal substances to heighten their perceptions and imagination.

Step by step, slowly, we reached the quarter landing and turned to ascend the final three steps. Kelly was, by now, noticeably shaking. “Come on, Kelly, only a little further.” After what seemed to be an eternity, we reached the landing outside the bedroom door and this was when Kelly decided she was going no further. She turned around and scampered back down the stairs. “Kelly! Come back here, you crazy dog!”

It was no use. I did not know exactly where she was, but I heard her quiet panting from somewhere down at the bottom of the stairs.

Slightly angered, I called, “Okay! Stay there if you must, but I’m going to bed.” I went into the bedroom and switched on my bedside radio, my own antidote to the silence of being on my own. Sara Cox on Radio Two was playing some late night music, which, I had always found quite calming and comforting.

Cliff Richard’s “Miss you nights”, a deeply meaningful song had always relaxed me and I found myself quietly singing along with the words.

I slipped off my clothes and hung my trousers on a hanger in the wardrobe. I still had a strange, uneasy feeling, but decided that it must be a product of Kelly’s fear and my own vivid imagination. I was about to visit the bathroom, when I thought of Kelly downstairs. Her bed lay empty against the wall in the bedroom and, softening a little, I picked up the bed and decided to carry it downstairs to, hopefully, give the dog a little more comfort while asleep. I was half-way down the staircase, when I nearly stumbled over something on the steps. Thankfully, I, somehow, managed to regain my balance and, cursing, continued to the bottom of the stairs.

It did not take long to find Kelly. She was still ignoring me and was curled up on the hall floor. Putting the bed against the side of the staircase, I managed to coax the reluctant dog to lie on her bed. I stroked her back, all the time trying to reassure Kelly that there was nothing to be afraid of. “You would not be of much use if a criminal broke into the house through an upstairs window, would you?” I stroked her head and back, noticing, now, that her hair was quite smooth and soft as normal. Thankfully, her fear seemed to have passed.

Feeling a bit better about Kelly, I began to climb the stairs again and remembered to look to find what had caused me to stumble. Assuming that I had dropped something, perhaps a jumper or tee-shirt on the stairs, I checked every step and found absolutely nothing. Cursing, I checked again, but the result was still the same. “Could I have been mistaken? I had definitely stood on something, but what?”

Giving up on my fruitless search, I went to the bathroom, used the toilet and began to clean my teeth. I could still hear the music from the radio in my bedroom and enjoyed the calming tones of Sara. I was about to rinse my mouth with mouthwash, when the music stopped abruptly, only to be replaced with a background hissing noise. Shrugging, I finished in the bathroom and returned to my bedroom, where the sound of the static hiss was quite loud. I switched the radio off and, immediately, switched it back on again. The music re-appeared, much to my puzzlement. Why should my Roberts portable radio, which I had been using for several years, suddenly decide to re-tune itself from Radio Two?

The eleven o’clock news came on the radio and I climbed into bed, ready for what I hoped would be a restful night. I listened for a further few minutes, then switched the radio off and closed my eyes. My mind was in such a turmoil that I decided to try and sleep instead of listening to my talking book.

Unfortunately, sleep did not come quickly and a strange, unsettling feeling filled my whole being. What had frightened Kelly and what had I stumbled over on the stairs? Something was not quite right, but, what? Still puzzling over the events, somehow, I eventually managed to fall into an uncomfortable, uneasy sleep.

I awoke to the sound of weird foreign-sounding whispering voices accompanied by a really strange, nerve-wracking feeling. It was one of an unusual lightness, as though my body was weightless and almost insignificant.

Still, the whispers continued, yet to add to my frustration, I could not understand what was being said.

To add to my distress, I had an awful feeling of many, small “things” crawling all over my body. Worms, slugs, snails or what on earth could they be. Trying to keep my mouth closed, I shuddered at this awful sensation. What the hell was going on? I wanted to scream at this horrifying situation, yet dared not to even open my mouth, in case these wriggling ‘entities’ should try to enter into my body. Then, the thought of other orifices which could provide an alternative, easy entrance for these tiny creatures to devour my internal organs horrified me and I felt sick and terrified at the thought.

Another terrifying realisation filled my brain. Where was the pillow? I could feel nothing under my head and, when I felt for it, there was nothing. No pillow, not even my bed! Just emptiness.

Although I could not prove it, it felt as though my body was rising very slowly up from my bed, towards the ceiling, yet, how could this be happening? The whole situation seemed to be terrifying, crazy and impossible.

I moved my arms around, frantically, to feel for the bed and still found absolutely nothing. I, then, lifted my arm upright, trying to feel for the ceiling, yet could not even reach it. Surely, my ceiling could not be so high?

I was floating in mid-air. How the hell could this be happening? As I began to panic, there was a sudden release of tension and I fell quickly downwards, thankfully landing back on to my bed with a creak and a loud bump.

I realised that I must have been floating above my bed and, probably, somewhere near to the ceiling. Now, I could understand how Kelly must have felt terrified and, like her, wondered if I should abandon my bedroom and go down stairs, away from the weird happenings within this room. I felt my skin and realised, with thankful relief, that the tiny, creatures which had covered my whole body from head to feet, had suddenly completely disappeared, without trace. “Pull yourself together, Buckingham!” I hoped that, whatever was going on in this room, it would stop, leave me alone and let me get some sleep. As if in answer to my plea, miraculously, somehow, I did manage to return to a deep, undisturbed sleep.

Chapter Three: Restless nights

When I opened the curtains, next morning, I could feel the heat of the early sun on my face and body and all seemed right with the world. I felt quite refreshed, which was surprising considering the strange, disturbing events of the previous evening. I do not know why, but, I used my hands to feel the bed quilt and carpet to check if the creepy things which had covered my body had fallen down at the same time, but I could find absolutely no trace of the slithery slimy creatures. I imagined that these gastropods would have left some slimy trace on my exposed skin, yet I could feel nothing out of the ordinary. I supposed that I had expected this weird, inexplicable result.