Short Stories

Awake

A sharp inhale and convulsive jerk.
Snap.
My eyes fly open.
Awake now.

I sink lower into my pillow, not moving. I breath slowly in and out, trying desperately to cling to the wisps of the dream that are evaporating in my mind like vapour. But no matter how hard I try, I can't trap them. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and images flicker, like an old TV set tuned between two channels behind my eyes.
An outstretched hand. A suit and tie.
It's gone
I sigh, turning onto my back staring at the ceiling, lit dimly by the half light of the barely-morning. A prickling sensation dances across my neck and exposed arms. The air feels damp and chill so I snuggle back under the warm duvet.
But then, slowly, like a drip forming on a leaking tap, a question forms in my mind.
Why did I wake up?
I'm usually a heavy sleeper... In fact getting up at all is something I think of as a rare occurrence. So why did I wake now? What changed?
I listen closely. The apartment is still, no sound comes from the adjoining rooms and it feels as if the world has stopped turning. But no, a passing car in the distance pulls everything back into motion. But silence falls again.

Hold on.

No. Not silence.
There is the faintest little sound coming from somewhere above my head. The prickling sensation returns in earnest, the chill air clings in my throat and I suddenly feel afraid. Like my little room is trying to warn me. So I sit up. Slowly and with absolute care not to make a sound. Like a child, trying not to wake their parents. I turn in my spot, the little cocoon of bed sheets and duvet twists around my legs, hugging me. I reach up to the curtain, taking the thick material in my hand. Clutching the thick material in a shade of yellow that turned my stomach. I take a deep breath, the cold of the room seems to be pressing on my heart, which races in my chest; a metronome out of control. The sound is louder from here a clicking and dragging sound so delicate I'm surprised it could have disturbed my sleep. My hand begins to shake and I hesitate. And in that second there is a bang, a slapping sound of something hard and fleshy against the glass pane of my window that chills my very soul. Without waiting I pull back the drape, and what I see stops my heart.