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The large doorof the manor I’d recently inherited creaked with my nudge. Poking my head inside, I puffed out my cheeks with my gusty exhale.

Nothing to be scared of. Ghosts couldn’t touch me, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t spent most of my life accompanied by the voices. I fiddled with the crucifix hanging from the chain around my neck, rubbing my thumb over the smooth gold-plated sterling silver.

As used to them as I’d become, the dreaded voices had never beenthisloud—If I wasn’t counting when they’d landed me in an involuntary psychiatric hold three years ago.

I licked my lips and stiffened my spine. I couldn’t let myself hang around outside all night. There was so much to unpack, and it wasn’t like they could do anything to me.

Entering the corridor, the chill of the house caused goose bumps to travel up my arms. I dropped my car keys on the slim entryway table. Resounding thuds echoed across the linoleum floor with each step. The hall opened up to the right, leading to the kitchen. I flipped the light switch on, but nothing happened, leaving me in the dark with only a sliver of moonlight beaming through the window above the fridge.

Fear swelled in my throat.

“I’ll be okay,” I said, my voice echoing loudly in the empty house I’d been in for a handful of days. I headed to the chair and hung my purse on the back, then strode over to the box of dishes I’d been in the middle of unpacking before I left a few hours ago. I opened the cabinet beside the fridge and carefully fit the two plates on top of each other. I scooted them to the side to make room for bowls.

I rubbed the back of my neck, and a shiver coasted down my spine. Something or somethingswere watching me. I’d become used to the sensation, but it only seemed to intensify with each passing year. Earlier, I could have sworn I heard someone whisper my name. I had collected my keys, dashed to my little Kia, and zoomed into town.

I’d spent hours outside a coffee shop sipping my drink and switching between people-watching and scrolling though my phone. It hadn’t been lost time; I’d gone through my emails and filled out a few job applications, since there hadn’t been any responses to the ones I’d already submitted. I’d be fine since the house was paid off and my late Aunt Vee had bequeathed me a small fortune, but I needed a distraction.

Something grazed my shoulder, and I yelped, whirling. My heart pumped so hard my chest hurt. I swatted at the touch again, and my fingers tangled with my hair.

Exhaling harshly, I wiped my palms on the front of my skirt. Shrill beeping ripped a scream from my throat. I put my handon my chest and hurried to my cellphone, which was still in my purse. After successfully digging for it, I brought the screen up to my face. I squinted from the brightness, struggling to read as my eyes adjusted.

Email notifications wishing me a ‘happy birthday month.’ My birthday wasn’t for weeks, and I’d take each and every second left of being twenty-nine.

Birthdays . . . didn’t make me feel good. Not even a little bit. The anxiety that came with them wasn’t only about getting older; it was how, each year, the voices became stronger. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something really fucking bad was going to happen soon.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled slowly. There was no one in my life I could expect a call from on my actual birthday, so these company emails were all that I had.

I had one friend from high school that might have called me in the past, but I doubted she’d remember. She’d become a mom of twins recently, and our friendship had slowly dwindled. The realities of growing older; priorities changed. As much as it sucked, I couldn’t begrudge her happiness. She’d been the single person who didn’t turn her back on me just because I was a little different. I placed my phone on silent and put it back in my purse.

Unintelligible whispers accompanied me on the way back down the hall.

Yelling out ‘leave me alone’ when the voices were too much had lost me more than a few friends. The very few times I had tried to explain myself hadn’t gone well.

Extensive therapies and medications had never made them go away either. Inhaling sharply, I rolled my shoulders out. I’d already showered before heading to get coffee, but I needed to clear my mind under steaming water.

“Everything will be fine.” I had a difficult time believing it, though. The hushed whispers enhanced a few octaves, sending a chill down my spine.

I ran up the stairs to the first room to the left. I tried the lights, but they were useless.

“Go away,” I croaked, cupping my hands over my ears, staggering toward the bed. Once I plopped down on the edge, something flickered at the corner of my eye. My stomach soured as I whipped my head around. There was nothing there.

Nothing was coming to get me. The voices were not real. I rubbed my arms and inhaled sharply, closing my eyes to work through my breathing exercises.

The voices began when I’d turned eighteen. Faint whispers that were easy for me to explain away.

And they wouldn’t stop.

I groaned, hanging my head.

Ignore it.Nothing is there.

I squeezed my eyes even tighter. Maybe I should call Father Drummond to come bless the house. He seemed nice enough when I met him at church yesterday.

The wind picked up outside, making the long, gnarled branches tap repeatedly against the windowpane.

Something was watching me again. I whipped around, but like the last few times, there was nothing. I rubbed my arms, soothing the goose bumps.

“. . .Mine. . .” The snarled word struck me frozen. They had neversaidanything before.