A Gap In The Joists

20260527

Written for Bradley Ramsey’s “Halls Of Pandemonium”, Day 27.

Nathan previously appeared here. This is a far more normal call...

“Hello, this is ‘Haunting & Hexes Helpline’, what’s your magical malady?”
“Um. How, ah, is there a way to tell if you’re being haunted?”
“There are a number of signs that we look for, yes.” Nathan spoke calmly and casually, a painstakingly trained tone intended to put the caller at ease. “Could you describe your situation, and what makes you think you might be haunted?”
“I, well, there’s this dream I’ve had since I was a child, and…” The voice faltered. “Oh, I’m sorry, this is so stupid, I should just-”
“Hey, you’re here, so why not get a professional opinion? Even if it doesn’t sound like there’s a ghost or similar influence involved, I can refer you to more appropriate services.”
Silence. Then a soft huff, the sound of uncertainty being cast aside. “Yeah. Ok. So, ever since I was a little kid, I have this dream. Not on a regular cycle, but often enough. If that makes sense?”
“Mm-hm. Could you describe it?”
“I’m in the house I first lived in. Which I’m aware is normal, formative years and all that. I guess that’s also why it’s so clear in the dream, when I can’t remember anything about it while awake. But, um, I’m however I am when I dream. Right down to wearing whatever I had on when I went to sleep.”
Also pretty normal, so Nathan just gave another noncommittal-yet-encouraging hum.
“I start out in my bedroom. Not in bed, but standing by the wall. There’s a, a scratching coming from it. Like something’s trying to dig through. I creep out into the hallway and to the next room, which is the bathroom. I can hear the scratching here too. It’s definitely something in the wall, between my room and this one.”
Her voice was quiet. Steady. The descriptions slipping out so easily they must have been rehearsed. And yet, there was definite tension underlaying her words. Fear.
“I step closer. Listening hard, trying to figure out exactly where the noise’s coming from. And it stops. Utter silence, way quieter than I think an old house like that would ever actually be, even at night. Until I hear this tinny whisper coming from the bathtub drain.”
A sharp, steadying breath. “What it says is the only part of the dream which varies. Sometimes it’s begging me to go into the attic and ‘look for the gap’, and talking about how lonely and cramped it is. Other times it’s desperately warning me not to go in the attic, or I’ll slip and fall and get stuck. I… I feel like, as I’ve gotten older, begging me to join it is increasingly common.”
Nathan’s fingers skipped across the keyboard, checking database entries and jotting down notes.
“Whatever it’s saying, I run out of the bathroom and I wake up. It, um, I’m sorry, this must sound so-”
“Not at all. I have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“Um. Sure?”
“Have you discussed this dream with anyone who was living in the house with you at the time? Your parents, perhaps?”
“Yeah.” Her rueful tone spoke embarrassed volumes. “Mum said I must’ve imagined a monster based on the pipes making noise. Went on about…” She faltered, then mumbled “Apparently I, er, wouldn’t use that bathroom on my own. Despite being too old for my parents accompanying me. I only stopped insisting once we moved.”
Hm. Strong aversion, then.
Nathan moved to the next point on the checklist. “Is there a mirror in the bathroom? In the dream, I mean.”
“Yes, but I can’t see my reflection, it’s too…” She trailed off abruptly, then slowly said “I can’t see my reflection, because it’s dark. But I can see everything else. In my room, and the hallway, and the bathroom. Just not the mirror. I guess that’s a dream thing, right? I read about not having reflections.”
Lack of reflections was indeed common in dreams. But also, visions prompted by ghosts tended to have weird lighting, it being that ghosts didn’t use light to see. Yet another “maybe” for the list.
“Does the voice echo, at all?”
“No.” This answer was immediate and confident. “Which is weird, right? If it was coming through the drainpipe. I guess it really was just a dream. Sorry for wasting-”
“Just a moment! Do you know the address of that house?”
“Oh.” It sounded like she was sucking her lip. Thinking? “Sorry, I should’ve asked mum and dad when… it never occurred to me.”
“That’s alright. Final question - do you feel like the dreams are changing in frequency? Do you seem to be having them more or less often?”
“I…” A pause. Sucking in air. “I don’t know if I’m having them more often, but… they’re lingering harder as I get older. Does that make sense?”
“Yes. It does.” Nathan carefully kept his voice neutral. “If you’re ok with giving me an email address, I can send you the advice package on testing for possible night-time influences. The good news is, at-home testing for this has gotten a lot more accurate and, er, less invasive in the past decade. I’d buy one of the recommended kits, read the instructions through while you’re wide awake, then keep it near your bed. After you have the dream again, use the kit immediately. And don’t hesitate to reach out to us if you have any questions or need help in any way.”
“I… Yeah. Ok.”
Now was an appropriate time to show concern. “And please promise me you won’t go looking to investigate that house on your own.”
“No way!”
Good, good. Hopefully she’d keep that attitude. Even with non-malicious hauntings, an Influenced going to the haunted location alone had a terrible tendency to end in tragedy.
File the email address, five clicks to attach the appropriate stock message and send, then… hope it was enough. The worst part about this job was you rarely found out unless the case made it to the news, and, well…

Prompt was “Write a piece inspired by a recurring dream or nightmare you’ve had over the course of your life.”
[I haven’t had any recurring dreams or nightmares, so I just riffed on the concept in general.]