Creeping, Creeping.
- By Dee
I hear footsteps coming this way, creeping, creeping. I hear his whispered questions. “Where are you?” “Will you please show me where you are?” “What happened to make you fear me so?” I don’t respond, for I know that if I do my final breath will be taken in a moment of terror as he looms over me, but my breath quickens and my heart pounds, for his voice brings back memories of dark rooms and broken bones. I cower in my corner, trembling in fear as I hear his footsteps draw closer and imagine his eyes, alight with mania as he stalks me- his prey. Suddenly I hear a thunk. I creep out of my corner only to find my once-beloved husband lying on his stomach on the ground, a note on his back saying “Run.” So I run. I run as if my life depended on it, which it did. When I reach the front door to exit, I fling it open. I run outside, sobbing in relief and screaming for help as I run farther and farther from the farmhouse. Eventually, I hear a voice, it’s close to me and I don’t think I can place a name on it but the voice sounds oddly familiar. “We aren’t done here, Margaret.” I turn around and freeze in horror as I see my captor, standing in front of me. He chuckles. “I guess you fell for my little trap, eh?” I scream for help, sobbing and running. He easily overtakes me and grabs me by the shoulders, his look filled with mania. The last thing I see is his smiling face above mine as the world goes dark.
