The girl who's eyes could see too much..

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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/0hShaSha on 2024-11-18 10:08:08+00:00.

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"AhhhhhHhh! Hello, we need an ambulance and police immediately! I'm here at... at..." cried the distraught teenager, barely able to string words together, her voice cracking under the weight of panic.

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1 Year Ago

"Shh, don't talk about that, Grace," Emily whispered. "Don't you know what happened?"

Grace hesitated, swallowing hard. She did know. Everyone knew—whispers and gossip filled the hallways whenever the subject came up. But what happened to Curtis was officially ruled an accident.

"Grace, you're new here," chimed another teacher, her voice carrying a tone of patronizing reassurance. "You’ll learn that kids have accidents. They fall, they get hurt—it doesn’t mean their parents are abusive. You’ll see when you have more experience."

Grace nodded, biting her tongue. Deep down, she wasn’t so sure.

---***

"Teeechs"

"Teeechs!" screamed Polly one afternoon, her tiny voice ringing across the room.

Grace turned, startled. "What did you call me?"

Polly repeated the word as she shaped playdough in her hands, then giggled and returned to her creation.

Grace froze. It had been years since she’d heard that nickname. Curtis had been the only child in her class to call her "Teechs." He used it like it was her real name, laughing each time he said it. But after his sudden death, the name disappeared with him—until now.

That night, alone in her classroom, Grace noticed something strange. On the chalkboard, someone had written, "Teechs." The letters were faint but unmistakable, as if scratched in with a nail.

Grace’s eyes brimmed with tears, but she quickly wiped them away. She couldn’t fall apart here.

---***

Christmas Eve

Polly tugged at her dad’s sleeve, insisting they buy a cake.

"But it’s not your birthday," James said, amused.

"Dad, it’s Curtis’s birthday," Polly replied, her voice soft but firm. "Please, can we? For him?"

James froze. Polly couldn’t possibly know about Curtis, his son from his first marriage, who had passed away before she was born. But Polly seemed so sure. For a fleeting moment, he imagined the life he never had—both his children celebrating Curtis’s ninth birthday together.

Later that evening, when her mom returned home, she was met with a shocking sight: Polly, wearing her favorite blue dress and a paper birthday hat, sat beside a cake adorned with nine candles.

"What the hell is this?" her mom barked, her voice laced with fury.

"It’s Curtis’s birthday," Polly said timidly.

Her mother’s face twisted with rage. "Don’t you dare talk about that boy again! Do you hear me?"

She grabbed Polly’s hat and tore it apart. "He’s a curse, not a blessing. Even in death, he won’t leave me alone!"

James intervened, restraining her as Polly cried. "Stop! You’re scaring her!" he yelled.

Polly whimpered, "Mom, don’t call him a curse. His name is Curtis..."

That night, James woke to the sound of faint laughter coming from Polly’s room. He found her sitting in the dark, whispering to someone. When he asked who she was talking to, she simply said, "Curtis."

---***

At School

Two weeks later, Grace noticed Polly dozing off during lunch.

"Polly," Grace said gently, "why are you sleeping? It’s lunchtime. You should eat."

Polly shook her head. "Mom forgot to give me lunch again..."

It was the sixth time that month. Grace’s frustration boiled over. She couldn’t ignore this anymore.

"I’m calling your mom," Grace said firmly.

Polly’s eyes widened with fear. "No! Don’t call her! She’ll hit me..."

Before Grace could process this, Emily pulled her aside.

"Let it go," Emily warned. "Don’t jump to conclusions. I’ll talk to Polly’s dad later."

Grace clenched her jaw. Something wasn’t right, but no one seemed willing to see it.

---***

The Secret

Polly tugged at Grace’s sleeve the following week. "Teechs," she whispered, "can I tell you a secret?"

Grace knelt down to her level, her tone gentle. "Of course, Polly. What is it?"

"Curtis taught me to call you that," Polly said, her face lighting up with a smile. "He told me you were his favorite teacher. He said he missed you & how you always made everyone close their eyes & count to ten before lunchtime to sneak tiffin in his bag."

Grace felt her stomach drop. "Polly, how do you know Curtis?"

Polly avoided eye contact. "I found his diary in my playroom. He told me things about you... about lunch breaks and the tiffin you used to give him."

Grace’s hands trembled. Curtis’s diary had vanished after his death. How could Polly have it?

That night, as Grace reread the diary entries, the temperature in her room seemed to drop. Shadows danced on the walls, and faint laughter echoed behind her. She made a decision: she would contact the police.

---***

Curtis’s Plan

As Polly lay in bed that night, the familiar voice of her brother echoed in the darkness.

"I can’t stay anymore, Polly," Curtis whispered.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Why not? You said we’d always be together."

"You can come with me," Curtis replied. "But you have to do something first."

"What?" Polly asked, her voice shaking.

"Remember the peanuts from class? Break them into tiny pieces and put them in Mom’s food," Curtis said. "And don’t forget to hide her epi-pen. You know where they are, right?"

Polly hesitated, her tiny hands trembling. "But she’s my mommy," she whispered. "She loves me, doesn’t she?"

Curtis’s voice grew cold. "She loves hurting us. She deserves this, Polly. Then we can be together forever."

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The Final Act

The next evening, James found his wife convulsing on the floor, her lips blue and her breathing shallow.

"Why is Mom shaking like that?" Polly asked, her voice innocent.

"She hit us both," Curtis whispered in her ear, his tone icy. "She sent me to the sky when it wasn’t my time."

Polly’s eyes filled with tears. "Can I go with you now?"

"Yes," Curtis replied. "Go to the terrace. If you jump, we’ll be together forever."

---***

The Tragic Discovery

"AhhhhhHhh! Hello, we need an ambulance and police immediately! I’m here at... at..."