The Painting (free read)

Itʼs been two weeks since I came to America to study. I live in my friend Peterʼs apartment, who works at a call center. We both live alone here. My family is in Thailand. His 9-to-5 hectic job earns him a healthy six-figure salary. Anyways, this is my brief introduction. Things started getting worse since I moved here from my homeland. Just because I am abroad with my friend who looks after me, I cannot accuse his house of having strange powers. Even if heʼs been living here for more than three years and something ominous happened, he would have left this place. Whatʼs the point of living with ghosts alone? I just considered it my bad thoughts, as I often watch horror films and have bad dreams. I thought it was also a dream, but that was simply not the case. What I saw in the dream will eventually terrify you too. I havenʼt told anyone, not even my mom. So, letʼs break the silence. Later that day, I was watching a horror film, then I went straight to sleep. It was 12:00 when I hit the bed. I was so tired, and soon I was sound asleep. My eyes woke up at 3:00 AM suddenly. I found myself beneath my bed. I struggled to get out, but my chest was heavy— so heavy. When I regained all consciousness, I saw Peterʼs legs in front of my bed. Since I was underneath the bed, the only thing I could see were his legs. I was about to ask for help when I realized it couldnʼt be Peter because he was on the night shift today, which lasts until 6:00 AM, and I clearly saw him leaving. I was horrified. I couldnʼt call the police, nor could I cry. I was stuck under my bed. After remaining still for 15 minutes, that creature moved its leg toward the door. It left the room, and I heard the door close. Suddenly, I got out, grabbed my phone, and dialed 911. But then, all the lights went off. I couldnʼt hear anything. I tried to find my mobile on the nightstand, but it was too late. Only moonlight was peeping through the hole in the window. I heard a voice from behind: “You better tell me about this horrific place. Look what this eerie presence made me do. I have cut my whole upper body, but Iʼm still alive. I want to die. Please kill me.ˮ My body froze in fear as I tried to say, “Who are you?ˮ But then I woke up. Damn, I was having this nightmare, and that was just a bad dream. I looked up at the clock—it was actually 3:00 AM. I called Peter, and he told me that he was on the night shift. He would be home by 6:00 AM. I was relieved to know this. But then something unexpected happened. As I looked down under the bed, I saw a painting canvas. I pulled it out, and what I saw just took my soul out of me. It was the same creature painting beneath my bed, but this time, I saw its full appearance—what I hadnʼt seen in my dream. I threw it away, but I often ask this question to myself: “I had never even seen that picture before—then how did I dream about it?ˮ