*Legend says that the pounding of one’s heart is the echo of a ghost trying to break its way out. They always make it through eventually. The question is when will it happen to you?*

Thump-thump thump-thump

My heart races as I turn the corner of the dark street. I place a hand on my chest, willing the pain to ease. The dim streetlamp ahead flickers.

Thump-thump.

No, I think. It’s too soon!

I run to the nearby stoop, rip the keys from my jacket pocket, and jam it into the door. The lights around me continue to make my shadows dance. It’s not helping calm my heart. I finally hear the lock click, and I push the door open, but I don’t hesitate once I’m inside. I pull the key out and run up to my apartment, knowing it may be my only safe haven.

Thump thump thump

When I reach my landing, I rush to the right door and get it open as fast as possible. I switch on all the lights after I lock and bolt myself inside. In the kitchen, I fill a glass of water. The coolness sliding down my throat is relieving. Leaning back against the counter, I brush a hand through my hair, pushing it from my damp forehead.

I sit the empty glass down beside me, then close my eyes as I hold my face in both hands. My breathing has slowed, but my heartrate has not. Its thumping is eerily loud in the otherwise silent apartment. I let out a frustrated sigh before moving to the couch.

Thump-thump

Flopping down, I grab the remote control and flip on the TV. I scroll through until I find a favorite animated movie—something happy to get my mind off the current situation.

“Stop being ridiculous,” I say to myself. Everyone’s heart beats hard when they’re nervous. I never should have read that creepy story online. It’s just anxiety.

Or is it? a voice whispers in the back of my mind.

Thump-thump thump-thump

I turn up the volume on the movie, glad that the characters are singing a cheerful tune. My leg bounces and my fingers tap against the cushion next to me. Groaning, I grab my phone. I open my texts and find my best friend’s name. I quickly shoot off a message, asking what she’s up to tonight.

It takes a minute for her to reply, but I’m happy to hear the dinging notification. When I read that she’s just relaxing at home, I tell her how freaked out I am and ask if she wants to come watch movies all night. It’s the weekend, so neither of us has to work tomorrow, and she thankfully agrees. I want to tell her to hurry when she insists on stopping somewhere for junk food, but I refrain. She’ll be here soon enough.

Thump thump thump

I watch the movie, laughing when the man starts fighting a horse with a frying pan. It distracts me temporarily. But only until I realize half the movie has gone by, and Sarah still isn’t here. She only lives a few minutes away; it shouldn’t take this long.

Thump-thump

“Why won’t this stop?” I nearly shout as I push to my feet.

Leaving the TV on, I go to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. The light above the sink flickers.

“Nope,” I say, quickly walking back to my bedroom. I have seen too many horror movies to dare even glancing in the mirror or shutting off the light. Luckily, my dresser is mirror-free, so I change into some sweats and a t-shirt, then throw my hair up into a ponytail before moving back into the well-lit living room.

The TV is still playing, the happy chatter and singing filling the air. I closed the curtains when I turned on the lights, but I still can’t shake the feeling that someone is here with me. A cold chill races down my spine. Hairs raise along my arms. I slap a hand to the back of my neck as a light breeze flutters across my skin.

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath.

Thump-thump thump thump-thump

With a long, slow exhale, I open my eyes and whirl around. The apartment is empty. It’s just me. Clenching my jaw, I scoop up my phone and sit back down on the faded blue couch. I go to Sarah’s contact and click call, hoping hearing her voice will calm my nerves.

The phone rings and rings, but no one picks up. I try again and again; each time, I’m sent to voicemail. On the fifth try, I wait for the beep.

“Hey, Sarah,” I start. “I was just wondering how close you are. I’m starting to get worried. I read that story going around about the ghosts bursting out of people’s hearts, so I’ve been freaking out all night. Please call or text me when you get this. See you s—”

I gasp, trying to catch my breath. My phone falls to the ground as I grab my chest. The pounding not only picked up in tempo but it’s sending shooting pains throughout my body. I writhe in pain, falling to my side. Tears roll down my cheeks at the pain and horror flooding me. Darkness bleeds into the corners of my vision.

Thump thump thump

Distantly, I hear another thumping. Something outside of me. It takes a moment to recognize the sound as knocking. Words are muffled on the other side of my door. My phone vibrates somewhere beneath me along the hardwood floor.

Someone shouts my name from the hall, and I know that panicked voice.

“Sarah.” It’s barely more than a breath, impossible for anyone to hear.

Thump-thump thump-thump

I push myself up on my elbow. I try to stand, but the overwhelming pain sends me crashing to the floor. My knees slam into the ground just before my head. The doorknob jiggles mere feet from me. She’s yelling something about getting help.

But I know it’ll be too late.

Thump-thump thump-thump

A hand reaches toward the door, but darkness is taking over. I give up getting out and hold my head in one hand and my chest in the other. Warm stickiness coats my fingers as blood trickles from the crack in my forehead.

Thump-thump thump-thump

I can’t think beyond the beating in my chest.

Thump-thump thump-thump

An intense white light replaces the darkness.

Thump-thump thump-thump

…

Thump-thump thump-thump

…

Thump-thump thump-thump

…

The door swings open, and a woman rushes into the room followed by two men and another woman. One of the men holds a ring of keys out, the other is pulling along a narrow bed with the last woman. The first falls to her knees beside me. Sobs wrack her body, but the two in uniform stop her from reaching me.

They place something around my neck before slowly rolling me onto my back. I blink up at them, and the first woman gasps. The uniformed people gently feel my wrist, taking my pulse, then shine a flashlight into my eyes.

Their words float around me, longing to make sense. As they begin to move me, understanding clicks into place. Gurney; they’re strapping me to a gurney. They are EMTs. I look around as a hand clasps mine. Tears stream down the first woman’s face, blurring her makeup.

“Emma,” she says softly. “It’s going to be okay.”

Hours later, I lay in hospital bed. The sun rises, sending beams of light through the large window beside me; I bask in the warmth. I slowly raise me hand, careful of the tubes and wires attached to me, and let it drift back and forth through the sunray.

The door opens with a quiet click. The woman from the night before notices I’m awake and audibly sighs. Her shoulders sag in relief as she comes to sit beside me. She takes my hand, shaking her head.

“Emma, you scared me so bad. The doctor will be in shortly to explain everything, but the tests were inconclusive,” she tells me. “They thought it was a heart attack, but some things don’t line up.”

I nod and open my mouth. My tongue feels like sandpaper. Seeming to understand, the woman lets go and grabs a nearby pink cup. She tilts the straw toward me, and I drink the entire glass of water. When she asks if I want more, I shake my head.

Before I can try to speak again, the door opens. A tall man in a white jacket walks in, looking at a small screen. He sits it down and meets my gaze with a smile.

“It’s good to see you’re awake. I’m Dr. Callison,” he says in a deep voice. Movement beside me catches his eye. “Sarah, you should go home and get some rest. I promise she’s in good hands.”

“I know, but I wanted to see her when she woke up,” Sarah replies, squeezing my hand.

He nods, then comes to stand at the side of the bed opposite her. He checks my pulse, listens to my heart with his stethoscope, and looks at the numbers on the monitor beside me. After he’s satisfied with how I’m doing, he begins explaining what Sarah already told me. I need to see a few specialists. They don’t know what happened because the results of the tests came back varied.

“Can you tell me what happened yesterday, Emma?” he finally asks.

A slow grin spreads on my face. His brow scrunches in confusion. I sit upright, tilting my head from side to side. My body is a little sore from the fall, but its otherwise in peak condition. As I shove the blankets away and swing my legs over the side of the bed, Sarah rushes to stand beside the doctor in front of me. They both reach out, trying to get me back in bed, but I brush away their hands.

There’s a freedom in my movements—a feeling I’ve longed for, for too long. I will not let them take it from me again. I yank the needle from my arm and detach the wires stuck to the skin of my chest. The doctor yells for help, but when I shove Sarah into him, his natural reaction is to grab her and stop her from falling.

“Emma!” Sarah shouts as I run away from them.

At the door, I pause and look back at their gaped jaws. With a grin and a wink, I say, “Emma is no longer here,” then disappear into the flickering lights of the hallway.

**This story was inspired by a tweet from @dorsalstream:

Original tweet by @dorsalstream