I must sleep. It’s been hours, days, and yet it terrifies me. Sitting on the edge of my crumpled bed, I grasp my head in my hands. Alone in the dark, I’ve barred the doors, checked them twice, and my mind says I am safe. It tells me to relax, find my pillow, close my eyes, and fall asleep.
I listen to my good advice, lie down, exhale, and breathe deeply. It lasts until I begin to toss and turn, and my legs tangle in the sheets. I reach for gossamer bindings that dissolve as I touch them, releasing me so I can stand and walk toward my bedroom door. I step outside.
Fog, mist, vapors rise, obscuring my vision of the road and the black leafless trees. Animal eyes wink in the distance, judging me, hunting me. I try to run, but it paralyzes me, unable to move, it forced me to face the terror.
Somewhere an engine revs, a menacing growl that vibrates through my body. Moments pass, I hyperventilate as claws sink into my skin. I scream. Eyes bulging, I stare into wicked orbs.
Midnight regards me, annoyed, she shifts and yawns, stretching her mouth wide. Parked on my chest, my black cat purrs and I swear she smiles an evil smile.
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Originally published at http://johawkthewriter.com on August 14, 2019.