I rushed to close every door in the house. The backdoor, closed and locked. I ran over to the kitchen door that led to the back deck, I had just closed it an hour ago, it now hung open. After closing and locking it, I rushed down the hallway to the front door. I was too late. He stood in the door way and stared at me. He held a cold gaze. This was the same man who came yesterday. I didn’t know what he wanted, I didn’t know what any of them wanted. Why were these people coming to my house. “What do you want?” He remained silent and held his gaze. “You’re trespassing. ” He was still silent, like he didn’t give a fuck about trespassing. He broke his gaze and looked into the living room. Something had caught his attention, he stepped towards the living room, I rushed behind him to get a look. Claire, my fiancée had been sleeping on the couch, we were watching television together. She had always fallen asleep watching television at night. The man hovered over Claire and gave her the same cold gaze he gave me. I stood beside him, getting a better look at his features. He had dark, curly hair, dark brown eyes and a scar across his forehead. He looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t remember who he was. It was hard to think lately, these people had me up all day and night trying to keep them out. I couldn’t sleep, I was on guard, day shift and night shift at my own home. The man turned and looked over my over my shoulder, the dining room. He walked passed me a took a seat at the dining room table, he made himself at home, he looked like he belonged.  “Are you hungry?” No answer. Then, he began to scream in agony, I rushed over to him, trying to ask him what was wrong? I looked up to his forehead, the scar was now an open flesh wound. It looked like an entry wound from a shot-gun round. Blood began to pour out of the wound, I took a look at the back of his head, an exit wound also had been pouring out blood. I hurried into the kitchen and pulled out the first aid kit from under the sink, I turned around to head back towards the dining room. He was gone, without a trace, no blood left behind, not a single clue of him being there.

   “Chase? Is everything alright?” Claire had asked with exhaustion in her voice.

“Yeah, sweetie. I think so?”

“What are you doing?”

“Just locking up the house.”

“Is that the first aid kit?”

“Yeah, I shut my finger in the door. It’s fine though, it’s not as bad as I thought it was. Do you want to go up to bed? ”

“Okay.” She replied as she let out a yawn. She was adorable when she was tired. I sat the first aid kit down and walked over to her. I picked her up and carried her up to bed, in my arms, like she was my child. Claire was a small girl and very light. I loved to carry her up to bed and tuck her in. After putting the covers over her, I kissed her forehead and locked her in the bedroom.  I went back downstairs.

The doors were open. I closed the front and again locked it. I walked down the hall to the kitchen door and stopped at the sight of the dinning room. Two women, the man with the scarred forehead, and another gentleman, were sitting at the dining room table. They sat in silence and stillness, with their palms flat on the table. Each held a blank gaze, not at me and not at each other, just a blank gaze at nothing. The one woman was a blond, she also had a scar on her forehead and just like the man, I’ve seen her before. I’ve seen them all before, they’ve been returning night after night, but on their own. This was the first night they were here together. In unison, they all turned their heads and their gazes were on me. Their faces had no emotion, their eyes didn’t blink. The wind from outside began to blow in through the open door creating a cold draft. Their were footsteps from upstairs, Claire? The soft footsteps made their way down the stairs. There she was, Claire. She gazed at me from the end of the hall in a matching manner to the others. She took her steps over to the dining room and took a seat at an open chair. She casually joined them as if this was all normal. “Claire?”

“Are you going to join us?” she asked.

“Join you?”

“There’s an open seat, your seat.”

I looked to the open seat, the seat that I sat in for dinner. There was a shot-gun resting against the arm of the seat. I looked back to the others and Claire. They each had a fresh wound on their foreheads, spilling blood on to their faces.

“Take your seat Chase. Remember your part in this.”  Claire said.

“Remember what you did to us.” said the one man who I now recognized as my friend Bill.

“Remember how you felt Chase, When I told you.” Claire added.

“What did you tell me?”

“She told you about our affair.” The other man said, Bill’s brother Cameron.

“Remember how we kept it hidden from you.” The two women said, I remembered them now. They were Claire’s sisters.

“Remember Chase!” They all said together. “Remember! Remember!”

I walked over to my chair and took a seat, they all looked at me with sinister grins.

“Remember the pain.” they said.

There was something in my mouth, I began to choke and lose my breath. My throat was clogged. I tried to cough. Nothing. I could feel myself becoming light-headed, my sight went red. Again, I tried to cough, this time successful. Blood drained from my mouth and splattered against the table. The others still wore their grins. The shotgun was in my hand. I didn’t remember picking up, I tried to drop it, but my hands failed to loosen their grip. I remembered, the events of that night all came back to me. I remembered Claire’s confession about her affair. I remembered that everybody at the table knew and kept it from me.  I remembered that I was hurt. That I was angry. That I left and got my shot-gun and killed them, one by one. I then put the barrel of the gun in my mouth, and had pulled the trigger, killing myself to finish the spree.

It all came back to me. I now had my answers. These people weren’t opening the doors trying to break in, they were opening the doors trying to escape. But there was no escaping this. We were stuck here, in this house, this hell. We were ghost here, in this home with the open doors.