I've always been known as sort of a slacker. No, sorry not a slacker but more of a, procrastinator. Yeah that's a good word. And I have to say I'm pretty good at it. Not to brag but I can do entire essays in one night with just coffee, concentration, and complete silence. That last aspect is most important though. See if there is ANY noise causing me to look up from my 13 by 9 inch world, the process is shattered and my concentration melts away slowly as I try to decipher the noise origin.
Noises are the only flaw in my process, and after years of procrastinating, they can only be solved in one way. Staying up late. Of course staying up late is a byproduct of procrastinating ,but I do it a bit differently. I will do homework up to about nine, at this point my dad after a long day is done and usually will head to bed. I claim the living room and begin working on my paper until everyone is asleep. Which in my family, occurs at about 12 am. And as everyone is drifting to sleep, my night is just beginning. This is the hour where coffee and snacks are positioned around me ,and the perfect spot for completing my essay is chosen. Then I begin to work. As I work through the night there are no noises to distract me, no others asking for my assistance and nothing even remotely interesting enough to draw my attention from my work. Well until that one night.
It was February 27 and that god awful English teacher had assigned a horrid essay about summer reading. God I hated reading. Sorry not to shut down everyone, but I just can't do it. Starring endlessly at a piece of paper for hours on end? And it doesn't even move! ugh! Anyway I had tried to Spark-note the book as best I could before settling down and writing my essay.
I was doing better then most nights, which really surprised me seeing how terribly boring the topic was, and I predicted I would be done around 3am. The house had an eerie quite about it, with only the low drone of the air conditioning in the back ground. The windows were black and everything seemed to be shrouded in shadows. But that's when I heard it. It sounded like the groaning of a couch when someone stands up, where all the metal springs give off a high pitch squeal as they are revealed of their work. I whip my head around to the couch behind me to see what the noise was. But nothing reviled it's self to me. All I saw was a plan couch, its pillows tossed on either end and a small indent in the blanket laying over it. Like someone had been sitting there for a long time.
I cursed myself and went back to writing my essay. It was about 2:47 and I was getting close to ending my second to last paragraph. I tried getting back into my zone but I couldn't. Something wasn't normal. Right above my computer screen I had started to notice something shinny out of my peripherals. For a moment I glance up from my computer screen and my eyes met his. He was crouched over in a way that made concealed his whole body behind my laptop except for his face. "He" is a liberal way to put it, for this was not a man. Its face was sickly pail and tan and had no hair any where on its head. It also seemed to lack both ears and a nose. But the most striking feature was its eyes. They were huge, about the size of soda cans and were a sickly pastel shade of green and pail yellow. The black pupil in the middle of each stared back at me moving.
I woke with a start. Laying on the couch breathing heavy, my computer still laying on my lap I cautiously looked around and checked to see that I was indeed alone. Generally I am a bit jumpy when dealing with things like this. I never was someone to just write creepy sounds off, or just ignore that coat rack that looked like a person. No, I needed to make sure I was safe. I looked down at the screen and cursed silently for the time was now 4:45 and my essay was not finished. But still I got up and made myself another cup of coffee. I also grabbed one of our kitchen knives just to make sure. Yeah I know Its a bit weird to walk around at night. With a knife. But I am not being caught by a monster and not have SOME way of defending myself. I gripped the knife in my hand and returned back to the spot I had chosen to work on my essay.
I was a bit scared from the dream I had just experienced so my eyes darted cautiously from one shadow to the next, dreading each new direction for fear of seeing that thing. I settled down and placed my computer on my lap and made one more sweep of the room. But as my eyes were ending their search I noticed something in the window. A wave of fear rushed in my heart and I jerked my head to face the window. There in the corner of the window were those eyes staring at me. My heart was griped in fear as I could now feel each wave passing over it. The number of waves had not only increased but it was something else now. This was terror. I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything. All I could do was sit there and stare as the peering eyes watched me.
I wish I could give you a better ending. One where I go face my fear clutching my knife and duel the monster coming out victorious. But I can't. I'm not even sure how that night ended. I feel the events were filed away somewhere deep in my brain in a place that I would never be able to reach. My brain graciously protecting me from the horrors of that night. I don't procrastinate that much any more. Well okay, even if I do I don't do it the same. I work during the day and finish around 10 pm every night. I always go to bed before 12 and haven't stayed up passed then ever since....that night.
I haven't seen it by the way. Although I will admit I haven't really looked for it. I don't know why I did see it or why it let me see it. But I do know some nights I find myself waking up. The low drone of the air conditioning rumbles through my room. I know its there. Somewhere in that room. Watching me
through the night.
