The Tragedy of Being

One of these days

Song: Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier

Existing is a tragedy most of us don't sign up for. Unfortunately, most never get the option of choosing whether we would care to exist.

However, we do get the choice on whether we only exist, or if we live.

Cass didn't care much for either. She hated living, and existing.

But that was mostly due to the shadows.

Lightning cracked outside. The roll of thunder passed three seconds later. Three miles away.

Fortunately, it didn't crack on her doorstep this time.

She pretended she couldn't see it, couldn't feel it. The figure that stood at the edge of her vision, enveloped in darkness. It disappeared the moment the light flooded the room.

But the power was out.

She was stuck with the shadow.

She was counting backwards from 100 to keep herself calm. If she didn't acknowledge its presence, it could do nothing to her.

But the shadow always tried to draw attention to itself. It came so close that it was standing right next to her bed, breathing in such a way that she had to pretend she couldn't feel it. The heat burning the side of her face was becoming too obvious to ignore.

She needed a plan. Or at least a light. But she didn't have one of those. All she had, was the hope of this thing being as slow as last time.

She inhaled slowly. Don't panic. That is all that she needed to do. A plan stitched itself together in her brain.

Look it square in the face once you get to the door.

Run to the kitchen.

Get a light or a knife, whichever is closest.

She slowed her heart rate. She needed to show no visible signs of fear as she walked to the door.

She rolled over away from the thing, keeping her eyes closed. She could feel it move onto the bed to get her to look at it.

I know my room. I can keep my eyes closed till I get to the door.

She slowly moved as to not look nervous. She rolled out of bed, landing on her hands and knees. The pain registered as a sharp crack, but she couldn't deal with that right now.

She turned and started crawling, praying she was going in the right direction.

The grooves get smoother the closer I move to the door.

She scratched at the wooden floors with her nails, trying to gauge if she was going in the right direction. She could hear it moving off of the bed, leering over her, its hot breath loud and on her neck.

The grooves were getting smoother.

She hit her shoulder on the door frame. She must have looked pathetic, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

She worried she wouldn't make it down the hallway.

It was crawling with her. She could hear it's drags across her wooden floors.

She inhaled, stepping with her feet between her arms. She paused in her crouched position, listening.

Lightning cracked. The thing recoiled from the light.

The thunder sounded.

She pressed her weight into her feet, straightening. Her hand held on to the door frame.