Grandpa David

         After a while, that old, dusty picture of David Smith was creeping me out. Hanging on the wall, with a blank expression. Every time I walked past it, its eyes seemed to follow me. It wasn't until later that I realized its eyes did follow me.
         Grandma Alice had been mourning David ever since he passed away in the war. So in the dining room hallway, Grandma kept a large, black and white picture of him that was at least 20 years old. In the picture, David is staring at the camera and smiling, and driving his left hand back into his forehead, forcing his head back, in to a playful, silly salute. Grandma would always gaze at it admiringly when she passed it. But one day, I noticed something different. As I strode past, something locked on to the corner of my eye and pulled me back to see what it was. Grandpa David's hand had switched from left to right.
         I checked my mind twice to make sure. Yes, he had definitely switched. And just as I was about to confront Grandma and tell her about ghosts, small, messy handwriting appeared next to Grandpa David Smith head. Like an invisible person was scrawling out notes as fast as they could, 3 sentences appeared.
"On Wednesday, December 3, be ready. I'll do it. If you tell anyone..."

         Today was Monday the 1st. In two days, he would "do it." I could only wonder what that might have meant.
         And...as the picture kept its word, on Wednesday, David Smith did it. When no one was around, he lowered his hand. Right before my eyes. I watched in awe has he winked at me and slowly lifted his hand down. And then it was over. That was that. I experienced an old, creepy photograph move.
         And now, here I am, chained up in this stupid coat, in my disgusting, white room, getting fed soup everyday while my "therapist" talks to me like I'm 8 years old.