For
Prompt….
The buzzing started on a Tuesday.
Sarah first heard it while making coffee. A low electrical hum. She checked the refrigerator, the microwave, even the ancient garbage disposal. Nothing. By the time she left for work, she’d convinced herself it was the building’s wiring. Old apartments makes weird noises.
When she returned that evening, the buzzing was louder.
It led her to the kitchen. The drawer beside the sink. Sarah kept it meticulously organized. Rubber bands in one corner, spare keys in another, takeout menus flat against the bottom.
She pulled it open.
The buzzing stopped.
Everything looked normal. She pushed the drawer shut and the sound resumed. Muffled. Insistent.
She opened it again.
She noticed the photograph.
It sat on top of the menus. A Polaroid, yellow with age. A little girl stood in front of a white house. Sarah didn’t recognize it. The girl wore a sundress with sunflowers on it. Sarah had never seen this photograph before. She lived alone here for three years.
She picked it up, turned it over. Nothing written on the back. The buzzing had stopped. Sarah dropped the photo in the trash and firmly closed the drawer.
The sound returned an hour later.
She tried to ignore it through dinner. Through washing the dishes. Through the start of her nightly routine. The buzzing burrowed into her skull and made her teeth ache.
She yanked the drawer open.
The photograph was back.
Impossible. She’d thrown it away. Beneath it now, partially visible, was something else. A small child’s shoe. Red canvas with white laces. Worn at the toe.
Sarah’s hands shook as she lifted the shoe. It was real. Solid. Slightly damp. She’d never seen it before. No children had ever lived in this apartment.
She threw both items in the trash. Knotted the bag and took it down to the dumpster in the alley. When she came back, the apartment was silent.
The buzzing woke her at three in the morning.
Sarah lay in the dark. Her heart hammered against her ribs. The sound was louder now. Angrier. A mechanical whine that set her teeth on edge. She knew, with the certainty of nightmares, where it was coming from.
In the kitchen, she stood before the drawer. Her reflection in the window above the sink looked frightened. She didn’t want to open it. Every instinct screamed at her to leave. To grab her keys and go. Sleep in her car or at a friend’s house.
But this was her home.
She pulled the drawer open.
The photograph lay on top. The shoe sat beside it. And now there were other things. A small plastic bracelet with alphabet beads spelling out EMMA. A moldy graham cracker in a ziplock bag. A child’s drawing of a stick figure family, the paper brittle and brown at the edges. A single blonde curl tied with a piece of string. Flat in appearance, until she pulled them from the drawer.
Sarah grabbed everything. Her breath coming in short gasps. It all went in a trash bag. She didn’t just take it to the dumpster. Oh no. She drove to the 24-hour gas station three blocks away and threw it in their outside bin. Then she drove around until dawn, the windows down, letting the cold air clear her head.
When she finally returned home, the apartment was silent.
She didn’t open the drawer for two days.
Friday evening, the buzz returned. So loud it vibrated her molars. She stood in the kitchen, staring at the drawer. Whatever was doing this, whatever cruel joke or supernatural torment this was, she would end it. She would empty the drawer, scrub it with bleach, throw away every single item, and leave it empty.
She yanked it open.
The objects were back. All of them. The photograph. The shoe. The bracelet. The cracker. The drawing. The curl. And more, so many more. Flat photos that found shape as she removed them.
A tooth in a small plastic container. A birthday card signed in crayon. A cheap necklace with a tarnished locket. A sippy cup. A Band-Aid still in its wrapper. A library card with an expiration date from fifteen years ago.
Sarah pulled everything out. Her hands working frantically. Piling the objects on the counter. The buzzing grew louder with each item she removed. A furious wasp sound that filled her skull. Faster, faster, she emptied the drawer, finding things underneath that couldn’t possibly fit. A stuffed rabbit. A winter coat. A booster seat.
And then her fingers touched something that pulsed.
She jerked back. Curiosity dragged her forward again. There, in the back corner of the drawer, was a pod. It looked organic. Something botanical. The size of a walnut, with a leathery brown surface that breathed. It vibrated intensely.
Sarah reached for it.
It stung immediately. A sharp, burning pain that bolted from her fingertip up through her arm. She screamed. Stumbled backward and cradled her hand. The pod fell to the floor and skittered under the refrigerator. Still buzzing.
Her finger swelled rapidly. The sting turned an ugly purple-black.
In the empty drawer, where the pod had been, she could now see the bottom.
Words were carved into the wood, crude and deep:
SHE’S HERE
A photo of a purple-black finger lay next to the carved words.
Sarah was compelled to…reach out…for….
This was really good! I was creeped out the whole time. But the ending--damn good cliffhanger. I screamed "WHAT DID SHE REACH FOR!?" at my laptop.😂