The next night I awoke to a cold sweat, my body tangled up endlessly in my sheets and my heart beating fast. I closed my eyes and took a couple of breaths, but the gruesome image held with me.
Matt…
I gulped, and quickly turned the lamp on in an effort to shake the night terrors. The ghosts of the past clung to my skin as I pushed the sheets off of me and set my feet on the floor.
Unaware of where I was even going, I opened the door to my room and tiptoed down the stairs, eyes wide as I clung tightly to the banister.
I looked over my shoulder periodically, worried that some specter would be following me.
I shook my head, trying to shake the picture of Matt out of my head.
As my feet touched the tile at the end of the stairs, I shook as goosebumps ran across my skin.
There was nothing here. No one was out to get me.
But telling myself that did nothing to quench the fear that quelled up in my stomach.
It wasn’t until I opened up a kitchen drawer, revealing an array of gleaming silver blades that I was set at ease.
I let my finger trail across the smooth metal, feeling comfort in the way the cold seeped through my fingertips. I looked back and forth quickly as I bit my lip. No one would notice one little knife…
Checking to make sure the coast was clear once more; I selected the most elegant, but deadly-looking blade. It was all about balance. I gripped the hilt tightly, familiarizing the shape to my palm.
It had been too long…
Slowly I rested the flat metal against my forearm, letting the cold sink into the skin.
That was when I heard the sound of a footstep behind me.
I shrieked, almost dropping the knife in the process, as I spun around to face…Elliot.
I looked to him, eyes dilated, as I took in his bed head and bleary eyes.
“Fuck,” I shouted, still scared of my wits. “What the hell are you doing?” I frowned, holding the knife behind my back and out of sight. I relaxed somewhat, though. At least it was just Elliot. God, was I really thinking that? It was just a murderer. I began gnawing on the inside of my cheek anxiously.
Elliot raised an eyebrow. “It’s three am and I wake up to find you creeping around in my kitchen with an open knife drawer right next to you and you have the balls to ask me what I’m doing?”
“Yes,” I squeaked, clutching the knife even more tightly in my hand.
He laughed as he leaned forward towards me and closed the drawer. However, the close contact made my heart beat race.
YOU ARE READING
Thanatophobia (fear of dying)
Mystery / ThrillerI tried to control my breathing, so that the knife wouldn’t be dug further into my skin by the frantic movement of air into and out of my lungs. I looked up towards him. His eyes didn’t look angry; they looked sad. But my stomach churned at the dete...
