I'm not Crazy

One shot for Halloween by Savannavansmutsmut.

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyers.

Summary: Bella lives in a house that makes her question her sanity. With no one to confide in, she looks to her friends to prove she's not crazy.

Rated: M for Language and Lemon

Bella's POV

Basements were supposed to be creepy. I kept telling myself that was the reason I never wanted to go into mine alone. I didn't go down there often, but it was where we kept the holiday decorations. I may have been terrified of the basement, but I loved Halloween. The floor in our house was wood. You could hear everything upstairs when you were down there and vice versa. I might not have had someone to go into the basement with me, but Charlie was home and he would hear if something went awry.

I knew exactly where the box was. When you're terrified, you tend to remember every detail that will make your escape move smoothly and my escape was only made fast and smooth by knowing exactly where all the boxes were.

I turned the lights on peering down the stairs, cursing my friends for not being there with me. The light was on and bright. It was like I was waiting for the light to shoo something away, but there was never anything out of place. Alice knew I was scared and told me if the place was really haunted, that stuff would be moved around or whatever. She was right. She also freaked out about mouse droppings and said the sounds we hear are most likely from those "little shit" raising hell.

I wasn't scared of mice, bugs or any other kind of vermin that might be in there. I was scared of that horrible feeling I got when I went down the stairs. I could feel someone watching me. I just knew it and it felt like they wanted to kill me, like they were furious with me and wanted me to die. Needless to say, I was mad fast on the stairs both ways.

I took a deep breath and eyed where the box was. I had my plan, down and out, no pausing. While I was giving myself this little pep talk, I could feel the eyes on me already.

"You gonna get the decorations, Bella?" my dad asked. We were supposed to decorate together. I felt like an idiot for being scared. He had a bum knee, so going up and down the stairs wasn't easy on him, especially when the weather was changing like it was. I wasn't going to ask him for help because I was being a scaredy-cat.

It was almost Halloween, being afraid was suppose to be fun. I should've been charging people money to sneak down into my spooky basement. My friends had never been down there alone. I wondered if it only came after you if you were alone. I was the only one that ever did that.

It made me worry that I wasn't sane. I was pretty sure that being paranoid was a sure sign of crazy. My fear of the basement was ridiculous and that was what I told myself as I ran to the shelf and headed up the stairs again as fast as possible. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, the cool air rushed at me and I felt tendrils on my neck. I ran faster thankful that whatever it was didn't have actual fingers that could restrain me. I knew I'd be dead if it did.

I never really talked to anyone about it, because I would come across as crazy. Paranoia and hearing voices were sure signs of insanity. Every time I turned around, it seemed like someone was calling my name, of course when I went to check with Charlie or my friends, they'd deny calling me. I even looked out the window a few times to see if there was someone out there looking for me, but there never was. I knew it was best to keep this information to myself. As long as I stayed out of the basement and if the voices only ever called my name and said nothing else, then I was fine.

As we hung ghost and witch garland around the front door, Charlie informed me that he was leaving for the weekend. "You can have your friends over, but no party or drinking." He gave me a leveling stare.

"Thanks dad. We'll probably just watch a few movies and eat pizza."

He patted my shoulder and told me that he was proud of me for being such a good girl.

Other than occasionally hearing my name, the rest of the weekend was quiet. I was fine and could ignore that. I felt like it was something I had to hide, so I didn't come across as a crazy paranoid person.

I was afraid of the dark too, but that was a pretty normal fear to have. I didn't realize how extreme it was until my dad caught me stepping around a shadow to stay in the light. "Did you spill something, honey?"

"No, it's fine," I spat out, before I disappeared into my room. I didn't want to think that I was crazy, but whatever it was, wasn't getting better. I still couldn't go in the basement. I always felt like someone was watching me and I hated mirrors. I just knew there was someone behind me. I would hear my name all the time, so I just started to ignore it. My father wasn't happy about that, but I never questioned if he called me or not.

The fear of the dark had always been there. I didn't realize how odd it was for someone my age to be scared of the dark, until Jasper was teased for screaming like a girl when he was thrown into a dark closet.

If I was crazy, I was determine to manage it the best I could, so people wouldn't notice it. That all changed on Halloween night. Charlie was out working, and left the house to me. Since my friends and I were deemed too old to trick or treat and my father was likely to show up at every party, we decided to stay in and party at my house. Pizza was order, "dragon's blood" was made with Doctor Pepper and fruit punch and the guys decided to tell scary stories. After the fifth, "There was a couple making out in a car," story, Rosalie intervened.

"Truth or Dare, Emmett," she didn't give him the option not to play.

"Dare, baby," he answered a little too excitedly.

"Lick Edward's cheek," she challenged matter-of-factly.

"Why does he have to lick my cheek? Why can't he lick Jaspers?" Edward whined.

"Well, are you going to do it or are you a loser?" she taunted.

Emmett startled us all when he jumped on Edward and licked his face, before he could say anything. Edward shoved him off with disgust, "You're sick. If we're playing truth or dare, then we are setting some rules, no same sex interaction…"

"Whoa, what about the girls kissing, I want to dare the girls to kiss. You know you want to see that," Jasper insisted.

"Fine, then the rule is no involuntary participation of a third party. If they don't agree, you have to re-dare."

We all agreed it was reasonable. Emmett then went on to dare Jasper to shake his man titties while doing a belly dance. Then Jasper dared Alice to kiss Rosalie. I was glad I was left out of that one. Alice then turned to me, "Truth or dare, Bella?"

I decided to play it safe, "truth."

"What is the scariest thing you've ever seen or place you've been?"

I glanced in the direction of the basement door. I didn't want to confess that. "Come one, Bella," Rosalie harassed. "No holding back, no lying."

"Fine, but don't laugh." I steeled my resolved, "My basement."

They looked at me confused for a moment. "You're basement?" Alice asked disappointed. "I know you think it's a little creepy because of the mice, but I'm talking really scary, not heebie jeebies."

"My basement and for my turn, I dare both you and Rosalie to go down there."

"Pfft, that's ridiculous. I'll take the dare and I'll raise it. I say we do it in the dark," Rose agreed.

My eyes widened and I shook my head no. Edward pulled me into his arms. "Hey, babe, it's going to be fine. There isn't anything to be scared of." He looked at me concerned. "Are you really scared of the basement?"

I felt so ashamed, that I didn't answer. The girls had already left the room followed by the guys. I heard them agree to wait to turn the lights off until after they were all the way down the stairs, so they wouldn't trip on the way down.

I knew there was a good chance that whatever was down there didn't exist or if it did, it'd leave them alone. There were two of them, so I'd most likely come out looking like a freak when they pull off being down there in the dark. I was crazy and this was going to really prove it. It would erase any question from my mind and I decided that I should see a doctor. I just wasn't normal.

Seconds later I heard blood curdling screams. I ran to the hall with the basement door just in time to see the girls explode out of it. They were cupping their necks, their knees were scrapped and shoes were missing from stumbling up the stairs. You would have thought I'd been worried, or upset, but all I did was smile. I wasn't crazy.

Savannavansmutsmuts, story behind the one shot, I'm not Crazy, that is based on FACT.

I grew up in a house built in 1929 in Mesa, AZ. I have six older siblings. They use to tease me about a monster that lives downstairs in the basement. That was where we kept our holiday decorations and our food storage. I was frequently sent down there to fetch things. It didn't matter if the light was on, I always got this horrible feeling that something wanted to kill me. The hair on the back of my neck would stand on end and I could feel that thing there with me. As soon as my back was turned and I started up the stairs, chills would hit my back and I could feel something cold wrap around my neck, like someone was trying to grab and strangle me. Needless to say, I was a speed demon on the stairs, able to take two or three at a time. I'd shoot out of that basement and slam that door shut.

In our house in general, I would frequently hear someone call my name. It always sounded like whoever was home, so if it was my mother home with me, I'd hear my mother call my name. If it was my sister or brother, I'd hear it in their voice. I'd find them in the house to ask what they wanted, but they'd say they didn't call me. This frequently happened to them as well. I actually grew up thinking it was normal to hear people calling your name. I just assumed we always "Misheard things."

"I didn't call you," was a common phrase in our house.

The house was rather large and so you could be in one part of it away from others and feel very much alone. There were mirrors in the bathrooms, by the front door and on my sister's vanity. Often when I felt like I was alone in part of the house, I'd feel like I wasn't actually alone. I'd often look at the mirror sure I'd be able to see something there, but I never did. The most I ever saw was just a quick snap of something out of the corner of my eye. I always dismissed it, sure I was just tricking myself. The thing upstairs didn't feel like it wanted to kill me, but it still creeped me out by the constant watching and calling of names.

I was sure I was crazy. I thought if the house was really haunted, then my siblings would've said something. They would have complained or brought it to someone's attention. I was born and raised in that house, living there until I was 21. I was sure someone would've said something!

My parents were retired and went on a vacation that would last several months. It was my job to hold down the haunted fort. I had a few of my friends move in, not wanting to be alone. All my older siblings had married and moved out.

I didn't tell my friends about my fear of the basement or how I'd often heard someone call my name or feel like someone was following me around watching me. As I said before, I lived in that house 21 years and no one else in my family said anything about the basement or the thing wandering upstairs. I hid my anxiety and thought I was crazy. I wrote it off as paranoia and actually looked into mental issue that would explain my particular brand of crazy. It was odd that I wasn't plagued by these issues when I was away from the house though.

With my parents gone, things seemed to get worse. Dishes that were set to dry on the counter were shoved off onto the floor, but no one was in the room at the time, we just heard it and came rushing in to see what happened. It was brushed off as bad stacking, even though I knew they weren't and it made no sense for the dishes to be flung so far from the counter. I suspected I was being irrational and making something out of nothing.

The floor boards creaked a lot more. I could no longer dismiss it as the house settling. (That was the excuse I had been given frequently when it'd sound like someone walking down the hallway) my friends were starting to suspect that my house was haunted, but like my siblings, they didn't comment, most likely because they didn't want to look crazy.

A guy friend had watched me run out of the basement and thought my fear was silly. He went down there, flipped the lights out and then walked back up the stairs perfectly fine. My fear had been proven irrational. I was crazy. What I didn't know then, was whatever was down there didn't go after men.

I watched Tremors with him one night and did do the hopping, leaping, run, trying not to touch the floor boards for too long. When I went to the bathroom, I kept my feet up and jump back onto the couch not touching the ground. The movie was coming to an end when we heard a deep growling from under the house along with claws scraping the underside of the floor. He dismissed it as cats fighting in the crawl space, but there would be no reason for cats to drag their claws along the floor boards over their heads. They also sounded like a much larger animal's claws; the growling was loud, low and deep. It didn't sound anything like a cat, maybe a large dog hopped up on steroids, but not a freaking cat. I did receive a piggy back ride to my bedroom that was over the basement and the sound did follow us. After a good thumping on the floor from my friend, it stopped. I had no clue what it was, but it stopped when he stomped and shouted for it to go away.

He once again proved that I was crazy and it was most likely some animal that he scared off. (I had heard this clawing and growling on a few other occasions as well. It was only my friend that was able to make it stop.)

Supposedly there was nothing under the floor or in the basement and there wasn't a creepy enough feeling in my house for people to comment on it, so I felt like I was the only one who felt that way. I was the one that had the issues and was most likely not sane.

That was until the two girls staying with me went into the basement to get some holiday decorations. They hadn't been down there long when they came up screaming, tripping and crying. Knees were scraped, shoes were lost and throats were clasped as if they were fighting to catch their breath from being choked. I looked at the tangled sobbing mess of crying girls on the floor and fist pumped shouting "YES, I'm not crazy!"

They then gave me dirty looks for cheering about their drama and cussed me for not warning them about the monster in the basement. I later asked my sisters if they had any experiences, but they refused to talk about it while at the house. You could feel it listening. Once away from the house, they confessed to having several similar experiences. We finally got the nerve up to talk to our parents about it and had the house blessed.

I'm still afraid of the dark