The Girl in The Wallpaper

The Wallpaper-Worn Girl There was a crooked house at the very end of Willow Street in the old Dunbridge town. Despite the fact that the yellow had long since turned to a sickly mustard, everyone called it The Yellow House. There was no longer a home there. Not since the Eversons left without saying goodbye years ago in the middle of the night. However, Nora, an eleven-year-old, and her family moved in one summer. It would be "charming" with a little work, according to her parents. Nora was skeptical. Even when there was no storm, the house creaked constantly, the lights flickered, and the upstairs hallway always smelled of old flowers and something... rotten. The wallpaper in Nora's bedroom was the worst. It was pale blue with a swirling vine pattern, peeling and stained. After the first night, Nora begged her father not to tear it down because he had promised to do so once they had unpacked. because the wallpaper was damaged in some way. Totally wrong. A fleeting glimpse of her pale face hidden among the vines was all Nora's first encounter with her. It vanished as soon as she blinked. However, the face was back the following night. The eyes were open this time. The girl whispered, "Nora." "Don't let me go here." Nora cried out. After rushing in and turning on the lights, her parents discovered nothing but ripped wallpaper and a terrified daughter. They tucked her back into bed and informed her that it was just a bad dream, possibly brought on by the smell of paint. However, the wallpaper girl was real. She appeared more clearly each night. a short girl with black hair that was tangled and a blue dress that blended in with the pattern like she had been there for years. She spoke with a scratchy, hollow tone that sounded distant. She whispered, "Let me out." "I've been anticipating." Nora tried to cover the wallpaper with blankets and posters, but by morning they always fell off. Every time, the girl's face got closer. She now extended her hand flat against the paper, as if pressing from the opposite side, out of the vines. Nora awoke one morning with tiny, fingernail-like scratches on her arm. She shared everything with her parents. They paid attention this time. Her father firmly stated, "We’ll tear down the wallpaper today." "Mold or something probably causes you to see things," He started peeling it off that afternoon. However, there was no drywall underneath the wallpaper. More wallpaper was present. plus more. As if someone had repeatedly covered the same design over for years, each layer had the same pattern that went deeper and deeper. Her father murmured, "I've never seen anything like this." That night, Nora didn't sleep at all. She sat up and looked at the wall with a flashlight. The girl's sadder-than-ever face returned. The girl mumbled, "She buried me here." "Below the paper. She said I was bad. I was bad. “Who?” Nora inquired. The girl replied, "Mother." She didn't want me to be found by anyone. As a result, she carved me into the wall. Her heart stopped beating. Nora's mother went to the town library the following day. She returned pale and mute, clutching a pile of old newspapers. She showed Nora the 1953 front page, saying, "Look." "Local Girl Missing, Presumed Dead" was the headline. A girl in a blue dress with tangled hair and wide eyes was depicted in the image. Annabelle Marsh was her name, and she lived in the Yellow House. Her mother asserted that she fled. However, neighbors have always claimed to have heard screams the night she vanished. The case never got resolved. By the weekend, Nora's parents had made the decision to leave. However, Nora did not wait. She brought a small knife and a flashlight to bed that night. Nora whispered, "I'll help you," as the girl reappeared. She gently pressed the blade against the wall before cutting through the vines and tearing them back like wrapping paper. With each slice, the girl's voice became more audible. The air became ice-cold and the wallpaper appeared to bleed darkness. There was a square, dark, and deep hole in the wall when Nora peeled back the final strip. A cold hand reached out from within. and drew Nora inside. Her parents discovered the empty room the following morning. Nora, no. No void. Only the wallpaper—once more smooth and flawlessly pasted. And between the vines in the pattern, there are two pale faces. Watching.

Waiting.