Focus: Jaejoong
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, supernatural, horror
Lenght: Drabble
Summary: Jaejoong has always heard footsteps upstairs.


As far back as Jaejoong could remember he had always heard the footsteps. 

When he was still a little kid he’d tell his parents about them.

“Such a cute imagination” – His mother would say while ruffling his hair.

“This is an old house son. The wood creaks.” – His father would add, then turn to his mother and whisper: “Probably mice in the attic.”

Jaejoong would pout. Apparently he was the only one who could hear the footsteps. Over time he stopped paying them any attention. The house had an insane amount of wood and they had indeed found mice in the attic. 

Like clockwork the footsteps would make themselves heard at specific times. And yet if someone was with Jaejoong, there would be silence. However, he gave them less attention than to the wind howling outside. 

He grew up, became a young adult and started to live alone after his parents moved to another city. The old house became only his. 

One day at the college, a friend was telling ghost stories. The guy was all excited after having seen some movie. That poked Jaejoong’s memory and he told his friend about the footsteps.

“My house is really old. All that wood? It creaks like someone was walking upstairs. Sort of like there was a ghost. Buuuuuuuuu!”

“You don’t fool me. I’ve slept over at your house tons of times. Never heard anything.”

“I know. I’m the only one who can hear them.”

“Ohhhh, creepy! Nice one, Jae. What? Your own personal shy ghost?”

“No, really. Only I ever heard them. My parents never could. And when we had a mice infestation they never paid me any more attention about it.”

“Knock it off.”

“But…”

“Look, I’m sorry I bugged you with ghost stories, ok? Come on, let’s go to class.”

Jaejoong complied but was incredibly annoyed. Why no one ever believed him? Granted, it had been years since he had last mentioned the footsteps to anyone but just that morning during breakfast he had heard them as usual.

That night, arriving home, Jaejoong was determined to pay close attention. He grabbed paper and pen and noted the times he heard the sound. He continued doing it for about a week. 

At breakfast, regardless of when he ate, the footsteps were heard upstairs as if someone with his weight was crossing the corridor from the room to come downstairs but the sound stopped just short of the stairs. 

If he was home during the day, he’d hear pacing in his room as he sat to watch tv. 

At dinner time, the sound was from the start of the corridor, into his room and ended in the bathroom. If he continued downstairs to watch tv, he’d hear pacing in his room again. 

It never occurred Jaejoong to feel scared or weary of the sound. It was something he had grown up with. However, his curiosity was finally peaked since his childhood days. What made him curious was that when his friend came over for an entire day, there was complete silence. It was rather annoying. 

Coming down for breakfast, Jaejoong waited sipping his coffee and the second he heard the familiar steps, he bolted upstairs arriving at the corridor more or less at the same time the sound halted there. For a second his skin developed goosebumps. He continued into his room. Window was closed, everything was as he had left it. He even searched under the bed just to make sure. Deciding to be thorough he pulled down the folding ladder to the attic and even peaked in there. Tons of dust, no sign of mice. 

Frustrated, Jaejoong went to college cursing himself. He hated feeling like a paranoid idiot.

That night, he heard the sound again. He approached the stairs and the sound stopped before it should. Jaejoong stood for a while with his head slightly inclined towards the top of the stairs. He felt alone, he knew he was alone. Yet, now that he had given attention to the footsteps again it was like he could not stop it.

Over the following days he continued to make sure the house was well locked. He even cleaned the damn attic and left traps for mice. At the tiniest hint of sound he’d go upstairs and investigate. Only silence greeted him.

Eventually, Jaejoong gave up. The house really was old. There were floorboards that creaked, some steps on the stairs squeaked and there was just too many places for mice to hide.

One random night, he noticed the sound of footsteps pacing in his room a little longer than usual. He shrugged and continued to watch the movie. After a late night snack, Jaejoong turned off the tv and went upstairs to bed. 

After a relaxing bath, Jaejoong put on his pyjamas and turned off the light. He was almost falling asleep when a sudden sound left him fully alert. He looked around the room. Nothing. But he had the distinct impression that he was not alone. He had never felt that way before. Sitting up, Jaejoong rubbed his eyes. Maybe his friend’s ghost stories had messed with his head after all?

Growing annoyed, Jaejoong got up and searched for his slippers. He wanted to go downstairs and get himself something hot to drink. One of the slippers seemed to have gotten under the bed. He kneeled on the floor and peaked under the bed to try to find his missing slipper.

Jaejoong looked at himself laying on the floor under the bed. 

Time stood still all of a sudden. 

Same hair, same eyes, same nose, same mouth. Smiling at himself as he usually smiles at his family and friends. 

His hand that was stretched to grab the slipper was next to another hand, exactly like his own.

Jaejoong had the crazy thought that maybe he had a twin. Then rationality tried to settle and he decided there must be a mirror under the bed. 

How could there be someone inside the house? All doors and windows were closed. What’s more, how could there be someone exactly like him inside the house? Surely those doppelganger stories weren’t real? 

It had to be a mirror, right? But he hadn’t mirrors that could have gotten there. Also the position was all wrong and he sure as hell wasn’t smiling like that. That smile was… 

As a shiver ran down his spine the last thought, that Jaejoong was aware of, was that someone, something, was inside the house with him. 

…

That morning, as the sun invaded the kitchen’s window, footsteps from upstairs could be heard. Exiting the bathroom, pacing the room, crossing the corridor and descending the stairs. Then the young man entered the kitchen, fixed his breakfast, sat down and drank his coffee. 

From upstairs now there was only silence.

He was all alone.