Upstairs

In 2017, my roommate was busted for drug paraphernalia. To make matters worse, the bust happened on the landlord’s property, so even though no charges were placed on me, I was evicted. Money was already tight, so without my roommate’s contribution to rent I would’ve had to move out anyway, but now I only had 3 days to find a place to stay.

Living in a rural area, my options were limited. There was only one other small apartment complex and their rates were twice as high. However, I did find a newly listed rental only five miles away. It looked like an old barn that had been renovated and turned into a vertical duplex. The listing said both floors were vacant, but only showed pictures of the bottom floor. It was shabby, but I had no room to complain. I called the owner, a sweet-sounding old man with a thick Southern drawl, and reserved the bottom floor. The next day, I collected the few possessions I had and drove over to the farmstead.

The old man was waiting for me at the main house. He looked like what I had imagined; dirty jeans, old boots, a big belly, and a long gray beard that matched his cotton shirt. I parked and headed over to greet him.

“Howdy,” he nodded at me as I walked over to him.

“Hello!” I answered, forcing any ounce of charisma I could muster into my tone. “I’m Melissa. Your property is beautiful!”

He extended his hand, “Kevin. And thank you.” I dropped my bags to welcome his handshake. “She’s not what she used to be, but she’s home.”

He knelt to grab my bags. “Oh, you don’t need to do that. It’s not that much,” I told him, but he shook his head and picked them up anyway.

“Where you’re stayin’ is around back,” he said as he started to walk that way. “Sorry, but I don’t have a driveway over to it yet. You’re welcome to drive ‘round and park in the grass if you’d like.”

There was no way my beater could drive through the tall grass. “That’s alright, I don’t mind walking.”

The duplex was less than fifty yards away from the main house and there was a worn path through the tall grass to get there. It was vertically symmetrical with the windows in the same places for the first and second floor. The second-floor window looked to not have any glass. It looked smaller than in the photos, but I was looking forward to the serenity of nighttime on a farm. He unlocked the front door and flipped the lights on. It smelled of hay, manure, and wood; something I would have to get used to. To my right, there was an old tube TV on a cabinet with a dusty recliner pointed at it. Behind that was the bathroom, and behind that was the bedroom. The kitchen was along the back wall. To my left was a ladder leading right up to a hatch in the ceiling.

“What’s that?” I asked Kevin, pointing to the ladder.

“That’s the way upstairs for now. I’ll be adding a door and steps upstairs to the back of the place eventually, just haven’t gotten ‘round to it.” He dropped my bags in the center of the

room. “Don’t worry, no one else is living here yet, and I don’t plan on renting the upstairs out until I’ve finished the other entrance.”

“That’s OK,” I said as I continued to look around the space. “Did you just turn this into a living space recently?”

“Oh no,” he answered. “My granddad turned this place from a barn into a house many years ago for some distant cousins. Twins, apparently. I didn’t know any of them very well, I just inherited this place a couple years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, but he shook his head.

“Ah, I wasn’t very close to my folks after eighteen,” he huffed. “I wasn’t much into farming, but as I’ve gotten older, the more appealing it’s been. My parents worked tirelessly to try and keep this farm as big and profitable as my granddad did, but they struggled. Since I had made a small farm of my own, I thought when I inherited this place that I could make it work, but I’ve struggled just like they did. That’s why I’m renting out the place,” he said as he shrugged. “I’m sure running a farm is incredibly difficult, especially by yourself.”

“Well,” he paused. He looked around the room a bit before continuing, “it wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for something messing with my crops and killing livestock.”

“Oh.”

He looked at me, “Now I don’t mean to scare you. I’m sure it’s just a few coyotes, and the livestock are all the way past the house on the other side.”

His attempt to comfort me was appreciated, but I was starting to feel like this was a mistake. I would stay there for as long as I had to, but I’d continue looking elsewhere. I guess that was a positive of renting from this man, as there was no contract and I just paid every month. “I’m sure it’s fine,” I said, trying to match his affirmation.

“I don’t have much of any livestock anymore, just a couple cattle and a few chicks, so I don’t think it should be much issue,” he handed me the key and stepped out the front door. “If you need anything – anything – just call me or come knocking. Don’t be shy.”

“Thank you very much,” I told him as he walked back to his house. I walked around the space a bit before unpacking my bags and accustoming myself to my new home.

That evening, I sat in the recliner and browsed on my phone for other places to stay. I looked for hours, expanding the boundary further and further away, but couldn’t find anywhere I could afford. I even contemplated posting online for roommates, but after getting evicted due to the last one and the thought of living with a stranger, I would just as rather risk being eaten by the coyotes.

It had gotten late, and I could already start to smell the dew on the grass outside. When I got up to go to bed, the floor creaked loudly with every step. It sounded like the entire house groaned for every move I made. I didn’t remember the house being this noisy earlier, but perhaps the silence of the evening made it that much more noticeable. I made my way to bed, but hardly slept.

The next morning as I walked back to my car, I saw Kevin carrying a shovel over to the barn. I waved to him, but he must not have seen me. He disappeared inside and I left for work. When I returned that evening, Kevin was sitting on the porch smoking. He nodded to me as I got out of my car.

“Hello,” I called over to him. I could tell he had had just as long a day as I’d had. “Long day?”

“Same as always,” he said and smiled. “Does misery love company?”

I laughed. “Indeed, it does,” I answered. I walked over to him and we talked for an hour or so about our lives, growing up, and how we got to where we are. He was sweet and genuine, listening intently and sharing his own stories. It was exactly what we needed.

“So, am I the first person to stay here?” I asked.

“Actually, I had one other lady stay here before you. She was probably ‘bout your age. She didn’t stay very long, though. We had a bit of an argument early on.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“Well, she had rented out the bottom floor, but she let her sister stay on the top floor without talkin’ with me first.” He sighed. “I should’ve just let it go since I’m still not ready to rent that top floor out, but it just seemed poor manners. I brought it up to her kindly at first and she just kept denying it. But I would see them both standing at the windows together, one in the bottom and one in the top window, staring at me. I saw them several times over the course of a couple weeks doin’ that.” He sighed again. “They were odd ones.”

“That’s definitely rude,” I replied. “I don’t blame you.”

He smiled at me. “Well, it’s late. It’s ‘bout time we go to bed.” He got up and headed inside. “Goodnight,” he called out as he closed the door behind him.

“Goodnight,” I answered as I walked around the house and back to the duplex.

As I stepped inside, I noticed the loud creaking again. With each step, a squeak echoed around the house. It took me walking to the bedroom to notice that each creak under my feet sounded again right above me. I rocked back and forth to make sure I was hearing it right, and with each shift, the thud echoed upstairs. Was someone up there? I wondered.

“Hello?” I called out, but no one answered.

Was the sister still living up there? I tip-toed over to the ladder, each squeak upstairs matching my steps. No, it must just be something with how this place was constructed, I assured myself. I stared up at the hatch, contemplating taking a peek. Maybe it’s best I wait until morning. I sat in the recliner that night, staring at the ladder. I may have dozed off a time or two, but it was another night of poor sleep.

I didn’t see Kevin in the morning, or I would’ve asked him to investigate the second floor for me. I went off to work but left early to check out the second floor before it got too dark. When I came back, Kevin was back near the barn with a shovel, covered in dirt and sweat. I waved at him again, but he didn’t see me.

When I got to the duplex, I stepped around a few times to see if the creaks were echoing upstairs, but they weren’t anymore. I turned on my phone’s flashlight and climbed the ladder. I found the light switch and flicked it on. The second floor was identical to the first floor. Everything was exactly the same except for the missing windowpane in the front of the house, adjacent to the ladder. I crept over to the kitchen to see if there was anything to cover the window with, but all the drawers were empty. Then I noticed the bedroom door was closed. I tried to open it, but the door was locked.

“Hello?” I called out as I knocked on the bedroom door, but no response. If someone had been living on the second floor, they didn’t have any belongings. The only way out that I

wouldn’t notice would be the open window, but there would be no way back in without a ladder. They might have been sneaking in and out midday while I was at work, but surely Kevin would’ve seen an intruder.

I went back downstairs to find something to cover the window with. Despite how late it was, I decided to call Kevin to ask him about the upstairs bedroom. I found a spare sheet under the bed as Kevin picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Kevin, it’s Melissa. I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I was checking out the second floor and noticed the bedroom door up there is locked. Is there a reason?”

He grumbled a bit to make it more obvious I had woken him up. “Huh? There’s no lock on the bedroom doors.”

I froze for a moment, then pressed one foot down. The creak echoed upstairs just like the night before. I took another step and it echoed again.

“Goodnight,” Kevin said as he hung up the phone.

I froze. The only sound I could hear was the crickets outside. I dropped the sheet and sprinted towards the kitchen. The thuds and creaks I made were equally matched above. I grabbed a knife from the drawer and ran to the ladder. Again, every thump matched me in step. I climbed up and put my hand on the trapdoor, pausing for a moment to prepare myself, before bursting through.

There was no one. I rocked back and forth, listening to the creaks coming from below my feet and above my head. Then I stomped a couple of times and it echoed loudly, but it still sounded like it was coming from above. It must just be how this place is constructed, how the sound bounces around or how the frame moves, I told myself. But then I noticed the bedroom door was open. I took a couple steps towards the bedroom and peered inside: empty. Strange, but I was relieved. I guess the door opened when I was stomping around.

My phone rang. It was Kevin. “Hello?” I answered.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I was just looking around upstairs. There were some noises and the bedroom door opened so I-” but he cut me off.

“No,” he said. “Why are you on the roof?”

“What?” I replied.

“What are you doing on the roof? Why were you stomping on it?”

I froze again. My mind raced. I stared at the open window above the ladder. “Are you in your room?” I asked. I couldn’t see the house through the window at the angle I was at, so he shouldn’t have been able to see me.

“Of course, I was in bed,” he answered.

I raised my hand and waved.

“Yes, hello!” Kevin said. “I see you!”

I dropped my knife and jumped down the hatch. I grabbed my keys, got in my car, and never went back. I left the few things I had behind.

Kevin called me the next day and insisted I answer him as to why I was on the roof. I tried explaining that it wasn’t me, that someone or something else lived there, but he wouldn’t listen. Before we got off the phone, he asked me why there were blood and feathers in the upstairs bedroom.

“I don’t know,” I answered, “but I don’t think you have coyotes, I don’t think the woman who lived there before me had a sister, and I don’t think your cousin had a twin.”