Paulina was born and raised in Poland, and now lives in England with her husband, two children and three dogs. Her love for horror started at an early age from Goosebumps to then watching her first adult horror “The Ring”, but her love for reading kicked in during Covid and now she can’t imagine her life without her wall of trophies that are her books. She loves everything from paranormal to splatterpunk, and she finally has released her debut Live-In Carer under the name PK Baker in August in which she also included her ten-year-old son’s short ghost story.
Connect with Paulina right HERE.
THE WIND’S WHISPER
by
P.K. Baker
A five-year-old Jason brushed his teeth energetically while watching himself in the mirror. He was proud of himself for not needing his mom to do it for him and excited to tell his dad about it when he was back from his business trip. After putting the toothbrush back, he grinned widely to check for any dinner leftovers, but all seemed well.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, the excitement of seeing his dad was overwhelming his little heart. But he also knew the quicker he went to sleep, the quicker he’d see him.
Jason dried his face and hands, and just as he was about to walk out the door, he heard a quiet murmur. “Jasoooon...”
It was so quiet, he wasn’t sure if it was his name he heard or if it was just the wind outside brushing the imaginary words through the closed window. After a moment of silence, he shrugged his little shoulders and walked over to his room where his mom prepared his bed, laid all the teddies next to his pillow, and switched the night light on.
“All ready for you, mister.” She smiled. Picking him up into her arms, she kissed his cheek and put him on the soft mattress. His whole body melted into it within moments, and the sudden sleepiness washed over him. “What are we reading tonight?”
“Room on the Broom,” he replied, pulling the cover higher to snuggle up.
Jason’s mom turned to his bookcase, he watched her with half-closed eyes. It wasn’t a second later when he heard it again from outside. “Jaaaasoooon.”
He shot up in bed, wincing as this time, he understood his name clearly. “Mom, did you hear it?”
She turned back with her brow raised. “Hear what?”
“Someone just called my name.” Jason hugged his blanket, and looked around his room.
“I didn’t hear anything,” mom replied, also taking a glance around. They were the only ones in his room.
They were the only ones in the house.
Then she saw her little boy looking at something. Following his gaze, she saw the curtains. She walked up to the window and pushed the curtains aside only to find nothing but darkness behind it. The wind howled quietly on this chill, November evening, and golden leaves floated in the air, gliding by their house.
“There’s nothing here, J,” she reassured him before closing the curtains again. “Let’s read.”
Jason laid his head back down, but his racing heart refused to give up. What if there was a monster, he thought as he watched his mom pick up the book and sit down next to him. She read the story, but Jason didn’t hear any of it. Instead, he listened to the wind, waiting for it to whisper his name again.
But it didn’t.
After his mom finished the story, she gave him another kiss, tucked him in and left the room. Jason was left alone and just as he felt his breathing deepen, he heard another noise.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
This time, he knew for sure it came from the window. His mom went back downstairs, and he could hear her shuffle about in the kitchen, cleaning after a busy day, and he didn’t want to call for her again. He didn’t really want to move at all.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Another set came and as much as Jason wanted to avoid it, he remembered his dad’s words how he needs to be a big boy and big boys aren’t afraid of anything. Jason pushed the covers away and got up. Wanting to make his father proud, and to tell him this story tomorrow, he walked over to the window and opened the curtains.
What he saw, made him chuckle to himself. A moth kept trying to fly into his room. Tap, tap, tap.
“It’s just you,” he whispered as he smiled to himself. He was scared for nothing.
The moth settled on the window; its wings still spread wide.
“Goodnight, moth,” Jason said before turning around and taking a step towards his bed.
“Jaaasoooon,” the voice spoke again from behind him.
Jason looked back to see the moth on the glass. It wasn’t moving, but this time he felt like he was being watched.
“Heeeeelp meee.”
Jason’s little body froze in place. He didn’t know how, but he was sure it was the moth speaking to him. “H—help you?”
“Pleeease, let me in.” Its voice was soft and quiet, almost like a song on a whisper.
“Why?”
“Pleeeease…”
The little boy cracked opened the window, unknowing of the insect’s intentions, and watched as its wings began moving and the moth flew in through the gap. It circled the room a couple of times before settling down on Jason’s bed.
Jason watched it in awe, proud of himself for helping the creature. His nerves now calmed, and he let out a big yawn.
“Thaaaank youuu,” the moth said.
“You’re welcome. I need to sleep now, it’s late.”
Jason jumped back into his bed, leaving space on the side for the moth and he closed his eyes. The dreams came shortly after, but in no way were they good. Jason dreamt of being in a small glass box surrounded by darkness. And in the darkness, hundreds, if not more, moths flapped their wings around, making sure Jason couldn’t escape.
While he slept with his face scrunched up and sweat breaking out on his little forehead, the moth watched. It waited for him to fall into a deep sleep, one that he wouldn’t wake up from again, and then it flew closer to him, landing on his nose. Jason didn’t flinch. His face relaxed into a neutral expression; his fists unclenched.
The moth waited a few more seconds and then it quietly slipped between Jason’s lips and made its way inside.
The boy was gone.
The body was hers.
The little heart that was beating for him, was now beating for her.