The Smiling Thing
09.00 am, Pennsylvania — May 10, 2009.
My name is Alex, and I just moved to Pennsylvania last week. The thing I dislike is that it was quite chilly, and the town was eerily quiet. Since I moved, I saw some people on the neighborhood, but none of them greeted me. I just thought they were busy.
I remember clearly that I met a girl who lived across from my house. Her name was Raven. She was pretty quiet and also mysterious. The first time I saw her, she was sitting on her porch, staring at the falling leaves as if she could read them.
I walked over, trying to sound casual. “Hey, I’m Alex. I just moved across the street.” She looked at me, her dark eyes sharp and unreadable. “Raven,” she said shortly. “Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile. “It’s... quiet around here, huh?” She shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Quiet is better. You get to hear things most people miss.” I tilted my head, intrigued. “Things like… what?” Raven leaned back, her gaze returning to the leaves. “Grins and smiles." I frowned in confusion. “What..?”
She didn’t answer, only gave me a look that sent a shiver down my spine. Then, without another word, she turned her attention back to the falling leaves, leaving me standing there wondering what she really meant.
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6:15 pm, Pennsylvania — May 21, 2009.
I grab my coat as I put both of my earphones on. The drizzle taps lightly against my hood, a soft percussion that matched the rhythm in my playlist. I stepped outside, the scent of wet asphalt filled my lungs. Each footfall splashed through tiny puddles. I continued to jog around the neighborhood as I tried to memorize my surroundings. The trees and the ground were wet with drizzles. I kept jogging, but the streets were eerily quiet, as if I was the only person left in the world. The drizzle fell steadfast, muffling the usual sounds of the neighborhood. Then, in the distance, I noticed a figure standing under a flickering streetlight. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t see clearly—my vision blurred from my nearsightedness—but something about the figure made me uneasy. Curiosity and caution battled in my chest as I picked up my pace, jogging closer, trying to make out who—or what—it was.
The creature was standing there; next to a big tree. It was impossibly thin, its limbs too long, its fingers ending in sharp, unnatural points. Its skin was pale, almost waxy, and its face… its face was a nightmare. The mouth stretched impossibly wide in a grin, teeth too perfect, too many, glinting even in the dim streetlight. Its eyes were dark, hollow—or maybe just black mirrors reflecting nothing.
I just realized. Could this be one of the things that Raven told me?
The Smiling Thing.
I feel my legs are locked in place, my lungs refuse to work properly. It was like my body had betrayed me, leaving me stuck in place, unable to move or scream. Every instinct screamed to run, but my feet refused to obey. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it over the soft drizzle, over the distant hum of the streetlights. The longer I stared at that grinning face, the heavier the air felt, as if it was pressing down on me, rooting me to the spot. Fear curled around my chest like icy hands, and yet… I couldn’t look away.
The sound of music on my earphones stopped, leaving only the drizzle and the faint hum of the streetlights. The sudden silence felt heavier than the rain, pressing against my ears. My heart raced, each beat loud in my skull, as if the world had narrowed down to just me and that grinning figure. I wanted to scream, to move, to do anything , but my body remained frozen, trapped in place like a deer caught in headlights. It didn’t flinch—it just tilted its head slightly, studying me with that impossible, unchanging grin.
Suddenly, it lunged towards me with impossible speed. The drizzle blurred into streaks, the streetlights smeared into lines of pale gold, and in an instant, everything went black. I felt my legs give way, my body hitting the cold, wet ground—but all I could remember was the sound of my own scream, echoing endlessly in the darkness. Time seemed to stretch, every heartbeat pounding like a drum in my ears. I couldn’t see, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe properly—only that grin burned behind my eyelids, impossibly wide, watching, waiting.
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10.00 pm, Pennsylvania — May 21, 2009.
I woke up in my bed, drenched in sweat. The soft patter of rain on the window was the only sound, and my earphones lay tangled beside me, silent. My heart was still hammering, and my limbs felt heavy, as if the Smiling Thing’s grip hadn’t entirely released my body. I glanced around—everything was normal, yet nothing felt right. The shadows in my room seemed longer, the corners darker. For a moment, I thought I could still see that impossibly wide grin lingering in the darkness, just at the edge of my vision.
I sat up, gripping the sheets, trying to steady my breath. The rain outside had eased to a soft drizzle, but the ease allowed me to like a second skin. Slowly, I reached for my phone to check the time— 6:05 pm. The room was quiet, yet in the back of my mind, that impossible grin lingered, like smoke in a corner I couldn’t reach.
Then, from the faint crackle of my earphones left plugged in, a soft, warped laughter echoed. My blood ran cold. The Smiling Thing wasn’t just a dream.
No matter how much I blinked, it never disappeared. And somewhere in the darkened room, the grin widened.
Everything went black.
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07.20, Pennsylvania, 22 May 2009.
When the neighbors found the house the next morning, it was empty. No sign of Alex remains—except his bed, neatly made, and the faintest, lingering echo of that horrific, impossible smile.
THE END.
-S.
