Ghost Breath

Ever since I was a kid, I've slept in the same room with my brother, who was three and I was eight.

In addition to me and my brother, there were my mother and my grandmother. Mom and Dad were divorced, and Grandpa died a long time ago.

Because most of the families are women, only my brother is male, so I feel that my brother is a little out of place, even hate his existence. As my brother grew older, my dislike of him turned to hatred. I hated him for fighting over food with me, hated him for messing up my things, hated him for his habitual shouting, hated him for making my mother happy, but what I hated most was the sound of him grinding his teeth in his sleep.

I don't know what caused the molars, but he started grinding his teeth around the time my brother was five, and they often upset my sleep. The sound of his teeth, dry and harsh, made my scalp tingle, and I woke up in my sleep many times because of the sound of his teeth. Until one day, when I couldn't stand it any longer, I jumped out of bed, went to his bed, grabbed his hair, and shook it. At that moment, I felt so good. The hatred that I had been suppressing for so long had finally been vented.

The next day, I was scolded by my mother about it, but I didn't care. After all, I had achieved my goal.

Since then, I have bullied my brother and vented my displeasure with him. I grabbed his hair, I pulled his face, I slapped his head, I kicked his ass, I stole his things, and I warned him not to tell Mom or Grandma, or I'd bully him worse. My brother was almost scared by me, and he would occasionally report to my mother, who would scold me, and then I would take revenge on my brother.

Generally speaking, our relationship with each other was extremely bad. It was all because of the sound of his gritting his teeth that I couldn't stand it. As he grew older, the sound of grinding his teeth became louder. Many times I had suggested to my mother that we change rooms, but my mother had always said that my grandmother's health was poor and that she needed someone to take care of her. I could only continue sleeping in the same room as my brother.

Until my brother turned thirteen, when he was in middle school, and I was almost at work, we were still sleeping together. Not to mention how inconvenient it was for me, just the sound of his grinding teeth made me wish I was dead.

"Squeak, squeak, squeak …"

I couldn't make out the sound, but it was as if an electric drill was drilling its way into my ear every night.

Finally, at the end of that year, something big happened at home. His brother was hit by a truck because he was careless while crossing the road. My mother and grandmother were heartbroken, but my thoughts were complicated. I felt a little guilty, a little sorry, but I was more grateful.

I know it's cold-blooded, but I just can't help it. At my brother's funeral, I cried like my mother and grandmother. In fact, no one could guess what I was thinking.

Today, three months after my brother's death, I slept comfortably every night until dawn. I could no longer hear the sound of grinding teeth that bothered me, and I had to admit that my brother's departure was a good thing for me.

It's been raining hard these few days, and my grandma's old illness is acting up again, so she stays in the hospital, and my mom stays with me every night at the hospital. I'm the only one left at home.

I am a timid person. In the past, when mother and grandmother weren't at home, at least I had a younger brother. Then I would use all kinds of methods to bully him. I wasn't bored at all. But now the house was deserted and empty, and it was raining and thunder outside again, which made me flustered. Only then did I feel that my brother was actually of some use.

When I turned off the TV and got ready to go to bed, it was still raining heavily outside the window. I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't help but look at my brother's bed, which was now empty and neatly folded, as it had been on the day of his accident. I don't understand why my mother didn't take care of my brother's things. Maybe she wanted to remember him for a while.

I stared at my brother's bed, my heart beating faster and faster, as if he were sleeping on it again. "Sis," I asked cautiously, "am I making a fuss about you?"

Outside the window, wind and rain were blowing, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, lighting up his brother's bed from time to time.

I don't know why. I had never felt such a sensation before.

I even began to think that my brother was lying in bed. I had no choice but to roll over, pull the covers over my head, and close my eyes.

But the more I tried to avoid the thought, the more it came to mind. And because my back was to my brother's bed, I had a feeling that a crisis was brewing behind me.

My eyes flew open and I jerked my head back to make sure my brother's bed was still the same.

I was disgusted by my nervous reaction, but I couldn't help it. I broke out in a cold sweat, thinking how nice it would be if my mother and grandmother were home.

In my nervousness, I suddenly felt like peeing, but I didn't dare move, as if I were afraid of attracting attention.

After hesitating for a long time, I finally got up from the bed. When I stepped out of the room, my gaze never left my brother's bed.

I tiptoed into the living room. There was no one in the house, but I was surprisingly cautious. As I was about to go into the bathroom, I heard a noise outside the front door.

My bathroom was close to the front door, and there was a hallway two or three paces away, shaded by a brown carpet.

I stood in front of the bathroom door and listened. I felt the sound was strange, like someone was touching my door.

The fear in my heart grew, and I was horrified by my own guesses. Anyhow, it's the middle of the night and I can't open the door no matter who it is.

Fortunately, the sound only lasted for a short while before it disappeared. My anxious heart finally settled down and I entered the bathroom.

Because I was so nervous, I couldn't get it out when I sat down on the toilet. I tried to relax, but I couldn't concentrate. My mind was filled with images of my brother.

I remember the look on his face when I last saw him at the funeral home. It was a look that reminded me of the rage he used to have when he was a kid, when he tried to steal from me. That's what's going on in my head right now.

After sitting on the toilet for an unknown period of time, I finally managed to get rid of my urge to pee. The moment I lifted my pajamas, I could vaguely hear sounds coming from the entrance.

The sound this time was very simple and very straightforward, as if someone was quickly opening and closing the door.

I was so quiet I could almost hear my own heart pounding.

Then I told myself over and over that the sound was a hallucination caused by my nervousness, and it didn't exist at all.

After comforting myself, I slowly opened the bathroom door. The light in the living room was dim, and at first I didn't see anything, but when I took a few steps I saw that the carpet in the hallway was damp.

Water?

I was extremely curious. It was clearly normal a moment ago, but why would there be water in the passageway?

And today is the weekend. I've been home all day and haven't stepped out of the house. Where did the water come from?

It did rain all day...

Suddenly, an idea popped into my mind: Someone has entered my house!

I went limp with fear and stared at the door. Then I checked the floor and found traces of water.

I pushed open Mom and Grandma's room and turned on the light. Everything was normal. When he returned to his room, he didn't find anything different. So what the hell had come into my house?

I blame it all on the leaking house.

That's right, because of the continuous heavy rain, some parts of the house had water leaking. This was not a surprising matter. However, I don't have the heart to confirm it right now.

So I lay back down on the bed and pulled the covers back over my head, and as I tried to close my eyes and get ready to go to sleep, I heard a voice I knew so well, but hated so much.

"Squeak, squeak, squeak …"

The sound of grinding teeth! The sound of his brother grinding his teeth!

My head swelled with the sound, and every hair on my body stood on end. This voice was very real. It was exactly the same as before!

I turned around to see what was going on, but then I felt a shadow pass by my bed. A cold chill filled the room.

I sat up abruptly and looked at my brother's bed. For some reason, my brother's bed had become very blurry, and I wondered if I was seeing things.

I had to get out of bed and approach slowly. As I approached my brother's bed, I asked, "Who is it?"

My voice was trembling all over, and it was easy to imagine how scared I was.

Unconsciously, the harsh grinding of teeth sounded again, and I felt as if my heart was about to stop.

Step by step, my legs seemed to be stuck in a quagmire as I inched closer to my brother's bed. I immediately noticed that the quilt on my brother's bed had been spread out, but it had clearly been folded. At this moment, the blanket was not only spread out, it was even slightly puffed up, as if there was something hiding within it.

My breathing was extremely difficult, and with the terrifying grinding of my teeth, my brother's quilt grew bigger and bigger. Right under the quilt, in the darkness, I saw a pair of eyes, shining eyes!

Finally, I broke down. I ran out of the room and out of the house. I didn't care about the rain or the wind outside. I didn't dare to stay home anymore!

After that, I told my mother about it. At first, my mother didn't really believe me, but when she saw that I wouldn't go home, she reluctantly believed me.

A few days later, we moved into Grandmother's old house to sell it.

A few years later, my grandmother died, my mother made a small fortune on the stock, and I started working, so we borrowed money to buy a new house in the provincial capital. This way, they could be considered to have completely parted ways with their past lives.

The new room had three rooms, and it was very large. Mom and I slept in three each. I am also satisfied with the other facilities and environments.

Only at night when I was sleeping, I could still hear the voice that had been with me for so many years:

"Squeak squeak squeak …" "Squeak squeak squeak …"

I knew that my brother had come with us to the new house, and that the sound of his teeth would torment me forever.

Oh no!