It took me a while to write, let me know if you like it!
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I lay on my back, nestled snug in a bundle of warm, soft blankets. It is 1:32 AM, and after a night on the computer, it was time for me to get some rest. Closing my strained eyes brings sweet relief, and I try to clear my mind, knowing that I have a big day ahead of me. I need my sleep.
Six minutes later, I prop myself up and wipe the sweat from my forehead. I was burning up with all those blankets on. I bunched them up and placed them at the foot of the bed. Sitting on the edge of my mattress, I glanced around my cluttered bedroom. It was too dark for my liking. I opened the shutters above my bed, flooding the room with silky moonlight. The feeling of insecurity lingered, I felt intimidated by the patches of shadow and soft light that crowded all around me. My imagination insisted on creating faces and figures amidst the clutter, and my eyes darted from face to face, confirming that each portrait was not an unwelcome guest but a collection of miscellaneous knick-knacks. Yet each investigation yielded only temporary comfort, the moment I glanced away from the clutter an adjacent spectral image would emerge. Compelled by my weariness I laid myself belly-up onto the mattress, and closed my eyes. In the back of my mind I knew that the clutter was just clutter, despite my burning instinct to think otherwise.
It felt like I had been laying here for an hour, but the soothing peace of slumber never came. The wheels in my mind began to spin; thoughts of various things began to swim through my head. At this rate, I would never get to sleep.
I opened my eyes. The shutters above my bed were closed. My first reaction was one of puzzlement, but it quickly turned to fear as I heard the sound of the hallway closet door creaking open. I tried to turn my head, but only my eyes would move. My bedroom door, directly across from my bed, was wide open, and in the frame of the door stood a black, amorphous figure. It moved slowly around my room, making no sound.
I felt it slowly make its way around the space, but I could not focus on it, my eyes were rooted to the wall across from me. On it, 6 picture frames of several sizes began to stretch and magnify, until the pictures they contained no longer resembled human faces. The faces began to scream, no sound could reach my ear but I felt an indescribable intensity, circumventing the senses, piercing straight into my mind.
The dark figure was now lurking beside me. Never before have I felt dread like this. This gut-wrenching feeling of being preyed upon by a force I could not halt or comprehend, utterly defenseless. I tried to scream, but no sound came out of my mouth. Suddenly, I heard the crash of glass coming from my living room, and the smoky figure sank into the carpet. There I lay. Frozen in place, my blood was concrete, my eyes hardened glass.
A thick thumping sound poured in from my living room. It was deep and hollow, like empty boots smacking against ceramic tile. With each thump the sound became louder, until the noise was traveling down my hallway. The source of the thumping bypassed my bedroom door, and I heard the closet door slam shut.
Petrified, I could do nothing. I could say nothing. I could only listen as the closet door flew open, and the empty boots stomped back down my hallway. It was as they reached my living room again that the sound suddenly stopped.
I rocketed upright, free from whatever spell had been binding me. I launched across my room, teary-eyed and flicked the light switch upwards with incredulous speed. As the room was washed over with bright white light, I nearly sank to the ground, still unable to make any sense of what had happened. I ran to the foot of my cupboard, and grabbed my bat. I turned on the hallway light, and peered down the way, into my dark living room. Nothing. There was nothing there. I felt no presence.
Still shaken, I turned on the living room lamp and checked around. The front door was locked tight, and everything was exactly where I had remembered it to be, no broken glass to be found. I lowered the bat, and my tension began to ease. I walked back into my bedroom, keeping the hallway light on. In my room, everything was calm. I opened every cupboard, closet door, and wardrobe, checking every space and then checking under my bed. I could find nothing. No trace of the mysterious figure. Above my bed, my shutters were completely open, as if the whole thing had never happened. I sat down on the edge of my mattress, placing the bat next to my folded blankets. The clock at my bedside read 1:41 AM.
Exasperated and drained, I cupped my face on my hands, and rubbed my tired eyes. I needed to get some sleep.
6 hours later my alarm clock buzzed merrily, imploring me to get up and start my day. I returned its devotion with moaning and whining, and slowly sulked out of bed. Wiping the crust from my eyes, I walked over to my dresser and got dressed for work.
Staring into the mirror, I adjusted my tie, tucked in my shirt and made my way to the kitchen to put on some coffee. As the coffee brewed I grabbed my wallet and laptop case from the dining room table, checking it once over to be sure I had everything I needed. I returned to the kitchen, drank my morning cup, and in an instant I was on my way.
The bus to work was very crowded, as usual. Like a sardine, I was packed into seat 13, sandwiched between an expectant mother and a construction worker. The woman smiled at me, but I could tell that life was rough; her grin could not mask her tired features. The construction worker munched away at a beef sandwich, watching him eat made my own stomach beg for sustenance.
The bus reached my stop in good time, and so I exited the vehicle, stepping out into the sun, my dress shoes slapping against rough cobblestone. The cobblestone courtyard was filled tables and chairs, all leading up to Stanson Textbooks, where I worked as manager for the online catalogue. Even this early in the morning, the yard was filled with people of all types, some reading and relaxing, others picking up a morning cup of coffee or pecking heartily at the café’s specialty: the lightly toasted egg and ham melt. The weather was arguably perfect; the whole atmosphere was one of peace, joy, and productivity. What a beautiful day it was.
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The End >: D
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