The Girl in Yesterday’s Photograph – Chapter 2
The Girl Behind the Window
Adrian rented the cheapest motel room Bellmere had left.
The building sat beside the highway at the far edge of town, its flickering blue sign buzzing softly through the rain while water streamed endlessly down the windows. Inside, the room smelled faintly of mildew and old cigarettes, with faded wallpaper peeling near the ceiling corners.
Normally Adrian would’ve hated it.
Tonight he barely cared.
He dropped his duffel bag beside the bed and placed the old Minolta camera carefully onto the small wooden desk near the window. Rain tapped steadily against the glass while headlights occasionally passed along the distant highway beyond the motel parking lot.
The old man’s warning lingered unpleasantly inside his head.
“If you see the girl… don’t let her get close.”
Adrian rubbed tiredness from his face and laughed quietly to himself.
Bellmere clearly thrived on ghost stories.
Every forgotten town did.
Still, something about the flea market vendor unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
Maybe because the man sounded genuinely afraid.
Adrian opened the camera carefully beneath the desk lamp.
Old film.
Still loaded.
He checked the counter.
Seven exposures remaining.
Curiosity slowly replaced exhaustion.
He stood from the desk, lifted the camera toward the rain-covered window, and snapped his first photograph.
The shutter clicked sharply through the silent motel room.
Outside, the empty parking lot reflected pale streetlights through puddles and drifting fog.
Nothing unusual.
Adrian lowered the camera again.
Then froze.
A figure stood across the parking lot near the motel ice machine.
A teenage girl.
Pale hoodie.
Dark wet hair hanging across her face beneath the rain.
She wasn’t there before.
Adrian frowned immediately and looked directly through the window again.
Empty.
The parking lot contained nothing except rain and flickering neon light.
His chest tightened slightly.
Slowly, he lifted the camera back toward the glass and looked through the viewfinder.
The girl stood there again.
Watching the motel.
Completely motionless beneath the storm.
Adrian pulled the camera away instantly.
Nothing.
Only rain.
He looked through the viewfinder again.
The girl remained exactly where she stood before.
This time Adrian noticed something worse.
She wasn’t looking at the motel anymore.
She was looking directly at him.
A cold pulse moved slowly through his chest.
For several long seconds he stayed frozen beside the desk while rain hammered harder against the building outside.
Then the motel room telephone rang.
The sound nearly made him drop the camera.
Adrian stared at the old phone beside the bed for a moment before answering.
“Hello?”
Static crackled softly through the line.
Then a woman’s voice whispered:
“Did you already photograph her?”
Adrian’s stomach tightened instantly.
“Who is this?”
No answer.
Only breathing.
Then:
“Don’t develop the last roll.”
The call disconnected.
Silence returned to the motel room except for rain against the windows.
Adrian slowly lowered the phone from his ear while unease crawled steadily beneath his skin now.
The camera sat motionless on the desk beside him.
Waiting.
After several seconds, Adrian forced himself back toward the window again.
The parking lot remained empty.
No girl.
No footprints.
Nothing.
Yet something still felt deeply wrong.
Then he noticed the wet reflection in the motel window beside his own.
A second face standing directly behind him.