The cover title is not mine. I got it on pinterest. I claim no part of this picture. No copyright violation intended.
I was making this when I was bored. I decided to let you read it.
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I loved the new glasses mom had bought me. They were beautiful. A dazzling, complex design on the side of the frame. They caught eyes from afar. I sat in bed, bed sheets pulled up to my waist. I had lazily propped myself against a pillow, sitting up, still examining my spectacles. I was happy to get these. The soft buzzing of the light that shined above me soothed my ears. I felt sleepy. But I was afraid to sleep.
An image of the last time I saw it buzzed in my thoughts. It was scary, it happened right after mother came to turn off the light, to tell me to sleep. My breath shook until my mind wandered to the spectacles.
I knew it was coming. That shadow. It appeared last night, moonlight pouring slightly into the room. I didn't know what it was. But it was coming for me, and that remained my only knowledge.
I shook my head at my own thoughts. I put on my glasses. My vision enhanced beautifully, with acceptable quality.
I nearly jumped out of bed when mother’s head peaked through the doorway, startling me.
“Kate,” Mother said, hands settled on her hips, “time to go to bed.”
I restrained from thinking of it. Of the shadow.
“I’m sorry,” I said to my mother, laying down.
“Now take your glasses off before you go to sleep.”
“Yes, mom.” I slid off my glasses, giving them a silent, motionless farewell as I placed them, neat, folded, on the nightstand.
Mom smiled. “Lights off.”
I wanted to say no before the lights dimmed, but my voice seemed like it was stuck, unable to speak a word. It was coming, but I knew the trick. I knew how to avoid it.
Close your eyes and don’t look. Then you won’t see it, I thought to myself, sinking underneath the blankets as the door creaked shut, to a stop, and the room darkened.
I felt my breathing break through the silence. It’s happening. Don’t look. Don’t look.
The sound of my own breathing intertwined with someone else’s-as if I weren’t alone in this dark room. Don’t look. Don’t look. Even with my eyelids forced closed, I felt it. Someone was watching. It was watching. It won’t do anything, just don’t open your eyes, I told myself.
I lost control.
My heart skipped a few beats.
I couldn’t say what it looked like. It was there, for a brief second, it’s hand-or claw- stretching out towards me like it was going to grab me, steal me away. I screamed so hard I was nearly hoarse at the end. It vanished, like a shadow. It left a puff of smoke, and an unusual aura in the room that sent an unfortunate shiver running down my spine. I backed up, breathing hard. Where was it? My eyes widened as they examined the room. It was gone completely, like it was merely a myth, a story. A dream that faded. A thought that was forgotten.
It was a blurry image, without my glasses.
Still breathing hard, chest pounding, I fell against my pillow, drawing my bed sheets over me for a kind of protection.
A ray of moonlight trickled through the window.
“No,” I said to it, as if it could hear, “leave me alone.”
It was blurry, but I could identify it. The shadow of a woman appeared, illuminated by the moonlight. I was too afraid to scream, to breathe. I was just there, watching it, chest pounding. The shadow of a woman in a long, ripped dress. Hair flying behind her. Screams filled the room. Scary screams. Shadows appeared all across the room. They seemed to whisper words. The ceiling fan suddenly started to spin, and the screams continued to fill the room. They were desperate, sad screams.
I screamed hard, my voice hoarse. It disappeared. All of it. The room was normal, and I was crying, hot tears running down my cheeks.
“Kate?” Said my mother, peeking through the door.
I didn’t respond.
“You screamed, dear.” Mom sat down beside me. “Are you feeling alright.
I shook my head. “I saw it mom, I swear I did! It was a-a shadow, and it-it….”
“Shh,” Mom said, “you’re dreaming. I’m scheduling an appointment with your doctor tomorrow. You’ll be alright. Try sleeping again. Tell me if it doesn’t work. I’ll be right outside the door.”
I nodded, calming down.
Mom left, and behind where she was just standing was the shadow, and it vanished suddenly.
And like a long forgotton story, it was gone. The moonlight vanished. Everything was okay.
I was too calmed to know that it wasn't, I was too tired to think about it.
It was there, I knew it. Watching my every move as I slept off, but now, it dared to come again.
.
