Read This Story Out Loud

Sep 6, 2019
2 min read

by Liz Wride

I need you to read this story out loud…if you have the guts. Maybe, if you’re too chicken, you could get your phone to dictate it. I’m sure it’ll sound way less horrific in a monotone robotic voice, before the speaker cracks into sudden silence.

Maybe it is pouring rain, and you can hear odd-tappings on the roof. Ignore it. It’s just climate change. It’s not terrifying at all. Continue reading this story out loud.

As you’re reading, maybe you’ll feel a constriction in your throat; a shaking in your voice. This is just a fear of public speaking. People are more afraid of speaking words out aloud than they are of anything else. It’s the number one fear.

Manoeuvre yourself, so that you stand in front of a mirror as you speak. Look into the glass. Look for long enough, and you’ll see every flaw; perceived afresh. Look too long, and you’ll see the devil.

Clear your throat of that frog. Manoeuvre yourself again, so that you are close to something solid: a table, a mantle, a bookshelf…something grounding.

Say, maybe, louder:

Knock once for yes.

Sit and wait in the silence.

Clear your throat, and say again, louder:

Knock twice for no.

Sit and wait in the safety of the silence.

There are no Ouija Boards in the house.

Not even unbound Tarot Cards.

Sit and wait in the safety of the silence.

There are no Ouija Boards in the house. Not even unbound Tarot Cards.

Why then, is there that one photo, old and faded that shows you at your most young — why does that seem to peer into you, now?

There are no —

Why then, is there always that one corner, where you swear you hear whispers? Or you feel a sudden breath on your neck? You know it’s just the draft — old doors, and windows that need sealant.

There are no —

Why then, do you hear footsteps in the hall?

The storm wind catches a window pane and rattles it, in one swift shake.

Knock once for —

There are no Ouija Boards in the house. Not even unbound Tarot Cards.

Sit and wait in the safety of the silence.

Liz Wride is a writer from Wales. Her short fiction has appeared in Occulum Journal, The Cabinet of Heed, Milk Candy Review, Okay Donkey and others. She is founder and editor-in-chief of Flamingo Literary.