Something That I Had to Write Down Before I Fell Asleep.

My head has only just hit my pillow when I hear a rustling in the dark. I open my eyes. For a moment nothing but blackness registers, but dim moonlight slowly begins to cast blurry shadows on the walls of my bedroom. Nothing I see immediately explains the disturbance I heard. As my eyes adjust further, however, a figure comes clearly into view. It stands nearby. It’s watching me. The creature has no definite shape, but I can feel its presence. I can see its eyes.

It stares.

I stare back.

I’m too scared to look away. Something in the back of my mind is nagging at me to close my eyes, but something even stronger in my consciousness is holding my eyes open almost against my will.

It stares.

Frightened, I allow a tear to roll down my cheek. I want to know why this monster is haunting me. I will myself to part my lips and ask. I’m suddenly very aware of how dry my throat is, and I unwillingly stop breathing. I gasp silently. My lungs remain empty.

It stares.

I stare back with pleading eyes. I can’t breathe.

The beast comes closer. It’s only inches away. I can feel it against my skin. Its eyes fill my vision.

It stares.

I choke for air, but my throat won’t open. I see nothing but the demon’s burning irises now. It’s not just looking at me. It’s looking in me. It knows what I’m hiding, and it doesn’t seem pleased. My lungs are burning for oxygen. The fiend has its hands on my throat. I begin to feel his rage. Flame consumes my vision, and fire licks my face.

I try to apologize. I never meant to cause the destruction that came about. No sound comes from my mouth, and the evil spirit that is now moving freely through my thoughts ignores my pleas.

Tears are streaming down my face, and I can’t feel my body. Maybe I have no body anymore. I begin to lose consciousness, but something vile is forcing me to stay awake. I want to vomit. I can no longer see. I sense my mind slipping. I forget what I’m trying to fight, and begin to give in to whatever force is wrenching my thoughts away from me.

And then it withdraws. I gulp in precious mouthfuls of air. Blood returns to my limbs, and I can see the shadows of my bedroom once again. My tears dry on my cheeks. My breathing returns to normal.

And then I see the monster’s eyes peering out from within my closet. From under my bed. From inside the air vent in the corner of the floor. It’s waiting for my next mistake. Fatigue begins dragging my eyelids slowly shut. Sleep grips my mind against my will. As I drift away I keep my eyes locked on the demon’s.

It stares.

Continued From Previous...

I knew I had a home. That I could remember. There was a flower box in the front. How long had flowers been growing there? I didn’t know. I didn’t plant them. The siding was a dull grayish-blue, except where the paint was peeling away from the wood. Whenever I had people over for the first time they always tripped on the top step up to the porch. For some reason that step was a few inches taller than the other three.

I’d been meaning to replace the worn doormat. The corner was torn and the green fake grass had begun to wear off in two spots near the middle where visitors would wipe their feet before coming in from whatever inclement weather Mother Nature had shrugged off her shoulders that day.

I was always greeted with a strong, musky scent when I opened the front door after coming home from work. It wasn’t unpleasant, though. It was familiar.

Something I Wrote Earlier Today

I don’t even know how I ended up in the river. Or exactly how long I’d been there. It was dark when I opened my eyes, which was a clue. I hung from my seatbelt. I didn’t remember putting my seatbelt on. I didn’t even remember driving into the canyon. Or even getting into my car, for that matter.

Water had begun to pool on the passenger side of the car. That’s what woke me up. The frigid water lapped up against my right wrist, which swayed just above where my fingertips brushed the broken glass of my car’s windows.

There was a steady drip of blood coming from someplace on my body, maybe more than one place. Each warm drop, black in the moonlight, became abstract art for just a moment before disappearing into the dark water.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt the distinct urge to move. I envisioned myself unbuckling, kicking out the windshield, and dragging myself to somewhere warm. I envisioned it again, this time going up through the door. I envisioned it several times more, each time slightly differently from the time before.

Finally I moved.

This week...

Another paragraph from my current project.

Lucy was in bliss. Somewhere outside herself she could sense that her physical form was weakening. Every one of the supernatural beings that used her body as a gateway between her world and theirs crippled her just a tiny bit more. But with so many thousands of them passing through her, she was now so drained that she would probably never be able to reclaim it. But that didn’t matter.

From where she was now, Lucy couldn’t see any reason to ever return to it.

And for this week...

Another bit that I wrote during the week.

Jordan held his breath. His fingers slowly curled around the windowsill as he pulled his head above it; his toes barely touched the dirty cement floor. Outside, the sky was dark. The front yard, however, was a different story altogether. The formerly manicured front yard was torn to pieces. What had been a neat row of suburban houses now gave the appearance of a smile with missing teeth, as some of the homes had been completely flattened. Bright lights with no apparent sources moved uniformly up the street while smaller light sources swept the front yards, glaring into windows and scanning bushes. Every now and then a door would apparently open itself as an invisible search party scoured the building for those few humans who had stayed behind.

Jordan lowered himself and turned. The two others that he’d been sharing the basement with, a boy and a girl, watched him expectantly. Jordan rubbed some dirt from his forearm and shook his head. When do we win?

Without saying anything the two quickly picked up their packs and heaved them onto their backs. Jordan was much less prepared than his new companions; he had only a half-full pack of cigarettes, a hypothetical map of the San Francisco tunnel system, and a few crumpled dollar bills that were currently buried somewhere in the back pocket of his mud-stained jeans.

The boy with the pack walked to the far corner of the basement, put a hand on either wall, and pushed. Nothing happened. Jordan shoved impatiently past him and heaved both hands against the walls with both hands. The corner split suddenly open and revealed a dark corridor.

For this week, a sample of writing that I produced.

Lucy sat in silence. Somewhere in the adjacent room a clocked ticked loudly. Lucy stared ahead at the nearly empty room, occupied only by a few wooden chairs strewn about in various positions and a fine layer of dust. The lone window in the room was covered with rotting boards, one of which was hanging at an awkward angle.

Tick, tock. With every tick Lucy felt the room grow colder. A floorboard creaked behind her, near the door. She closed her eyes for a moment. Here they come. The sound of footsteps trailed through the door and circled around the overstuffed wing chair in which she sat. She began to feel her heart beat quicken.

Across the room a rickety wooden chair was jerked violently around to face Lucy. She could see the boards beneath the chair depress as weight was loaded onto it.

A second set of footsteps was now apparent, following the same path as the first. A chair lifted from the floor and righted itself, being positioned right beside the other. Lucy could now hear more entities filing in, and all around the room chairs scraped into position loudly. For a few moments the room seemed almost alive with activity; the scant beams of sunlight that shone through the broken window lighted swirls of dust. Lucy closed her eyes and coughed.

The room was suddenly silent. Lucy peeked hesitantly through squinted eyes. Twelve chairs were now arranged in a perfect circle around her. Some of the chairs seemed to rock, as though their occupants were shifting impatiently. They were waiting. This is it.

Lucy sighed nervously. “Thanks for coming.”

Employment.

This week's subject: Work.

It's been eight months since I had a regular job. I'm now living in an apartment, and (for the time being) my roommates have been pretty content accepting what little I've been able to give them for rent. But with the beginning of another month and no work in sight, I'm starting to feel the pressure again.

As soon as the snow starts to fall I'll have some work at Beaver Mountain, but that won't probably be for at least a month, possibly two.

On the bright side, the economy is picking up and the majority of companies say that they plan to hire full-time employees within the next 12 months. Unfortunately, I really need employment sooner than that. And even once I start working at Beaver, it will only be a matter of time before the snow melts and I'm out of work again. I've even gotten desperate enough that I've sold my plasma a couple of times now.

Hopefully I'll be able to find something, and soon. I don't think the roommates will be too happy with my pitiful contributions for much longer.