"I'm scared. I don't know what's real or not anymore."

Two weeks ago my husband, Ray, passed away after being in a rollover accident off the old freeway down the road. He had been driving after having been awake for nearly thirty-six hours straight. He hadn't slept well recently, he kept claiming he saw faceless people or some non-sense like that. I had no idea what he was talking about and he never really got a chance to explain himself before passing.

All he would mutter to me was, "I'm scared. I don't know what's real or not anymore."

Dealing with his passing alone was near impossible. so when his sister, Beth, flew into town it was like a godsend. She made herself comfortable and even helped clean around the house to help me get ready for Ray's funeral. We would talk all night every night about everything and nothing in particular, sharing old stories of our childhood. Her jokes never failed to make me laugh no matter how down I got.

As I lay down to rest for the night I walked over to Beth's room only to see that she wasn't there anymore. I searched all around yet never found her. She was a grown woman and all but she could at least have the courtesy to say she was going out. I huffed in anger then went back to my room only to see her laying in my bed but she was different. She was horrifying, her eyes were nothing but darkness and her skin was pale and cracked.

I stepped back and let out a small yelp of terror only to bump into Beth. I turned to look at her then back to my bed where the figure had been moments before but had now disappeared from. Beth laughed it off and put me at ease before heading off to bed.

In the morning I welcomed guests in for the first part of the funeral.

Men, women, old friends, new acquaintances all the faces looked the same to me at this point. As his mother stepped forward to give me her condolences she pulled me to the side. Her voice was shaken and in through her tears all she could say was, "It'll be hard at first, trust me I know, however with time it gets easier. This isn't the first child I've lost." She looked down and stifled a sob.

I gave her a polite nod then after a moment of thought I whispered, "Wait, you only have two children correct? Beth and Ray... Yes? Beth's been here with me these past few days taking care of me" She nodded, almost confused, in response "I did have two children, however, Beth passed away years ago sleep deprivation or something of that sort. I keep a picture of her here in my locket." As she showed me the picture in her locket I stared horrifically at the picture of none other than Beth that had been staying with me. I shook my head then turned to the staircase where the "Beth" I knew was staring quietly straight at me.

Before I could react her face turned dark and twisted in a mangled way. Then, as if on cue Ray appeared on the stairs next to her, his face churned as well. I let out a scream then turned back to their mother only to see her face had been mangled as well. I let out several screams of anguish then retracted into a corner. As the guests turned to me one by one their faces disappeared.

I bolted out the door in horror I ran to the nearest neighbor but as with the others, their faces were gone as well. The faceless ones came chasing after me and despite my best efforts to escape they managed to surround me.

I screamed and screamed then as if lightning hit me I jolted awake.

The sky was still dark and the house was quiet. I huffed then laid back down. I heard the floors creak then laughed at Beth's poor attempt to scare me.

"I know you're there Beth I can hear you." I closed my eyes still laying down, "Don't worry I'm fine though I'm a little scared. Sometimes I don't know what's real or not anymore."

I heard my light go off and the door shut quietly. Thinking she had gone I opened my eyes once more only to be frozen in sheer terror.

There, hovering above my bed, a faceless one waited... unmoving... then almost as if in the blink of an eye it swooped down and then there was nothing...

Nothing but darkness...

Written by AziroPasta
Content is available under CC BY-SA