It Went Wrong

I'm paying extra close attention to everything because of the power outage. I mean every detail I can think of. I am not only nervous but also frightened.

I'm not used to staying at home, much less alone, but I felt obliged to do so today. I decided to stay at home. I couldn't go out and do anything for my day anyway. It's storming like hell. It's not the rain that's keeping me in, but a hasty choice tinged with disappointment. Even though we had planned to go on this vacation, it seems my friends have forgotten my birthday. I gave them the time to recall while I drove them to the airport, and still none of them cared enough to wish me a happy birthday. So, I stayed.

Seeing them agree to my decision kind of encouraged me to stay in bed, involving blanket huddling and being sad. But fear had absolutely nothing to do with it. It's possible that the calls I'm getting today are contributing to my nervousness. This person chose me for his or her... possibly, their day's leisure. I was tormented the entire day by whomever the caller was; a call and no response from the other side. My aim was to lie in bed peacefully wrapped in my velvet blanket, but someone is trying to keep that from me. It's working, but it's starting to irritate me. Aside from that, if it's not a paranoia incarnation, I swear someone is in the house with me. The recent phone call was distressing, and I believe items have been misplaced.

It began as a harmless hoax to obtain an indoor day off. Someone with nothing better to do had acquired my number and chose to ridicule me while terrifying me. From the initial phone contact to the second, things grow crazier and weirder as time passes. I couldn't help but notice the heavy breathing and then the rain; it became evident to me that the caller was in the rain. I even have to screen all of the windows in case he or she comes in. After all, it was just a few days ago that our next-door neighbors were attacked inside their home, and none of us knew anything about it until the police came.

"Hello," I replied, for the tenth or eleventh time. I lost track at some point. I was fed up and had had enough. But there was no answer, which infuriated me. "Pay attention, weirdo. I'm not sure what you're up to, but you need to grow up." I hoped that by using every card on my table, I might help this individual or these groups to eventually cease. As I hung up the phone, I exclaimed, "Psycho." For a while, everything felt so quiet and relaxed. I unplugged the cord from the wall in a few seconds. I felt obligated to do so. I was foolish to not consider it earlier.

I blew a stream of air and started up the stairs to my room, but the light went out and the phone started ringing. My eyes were wide open in disbelief, my lips slitly parted for more air, and I was startled shut in shock. I flick, turn around, and gaze at the ringing phone. I believed I had unplugged it not even minutes before I started walking back to my room. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and, of course, I had to check if everything was in its right places as I thought I had placed them. I'll own it: I wasn't brave. Do you understand what this means? It's either I believed I unplugged when I didn't, or there's someone in the house. I took a few nervous steps back to the phone, but first I double-checked the wire I believed I had disconnected.

"Wait, what?" I murmured, my furrows deepening in disbelief. I thought to myself, "Perhaps I didn't pull it out enough to detach it." I felt puzzled beneath the table, my hands on the phone cord. I had no idea what was going on, but the phone continued to ring, so I decided to answer it once again.

"What the heck are you looking for?" I yelled at whoever was on the other end, only to be met by a booming chuckle from a deep voice on the other end.

"I'm home, Ashly," the voice said, echoing back to me as if he were standing behind me. In horror, I tossed the phone to the ground and turned to look behind me, suddenly breathing heavily. I dashed up the stairwell to my room and shut the door. For a time, I sat in the dark for a while, relying on the merciful light from my Mac's screen.

It's not a recognizable voice, and it's hard to tell because this individual has altered their voice. Whoever this is knows who I am and is undoubtedly in the house.

My room is generally a shambles, which I don't mind, but today I despised it. Everything with an unusual shadow seems to be someone to me. Who knows whether this somebody is out to harm me? It's difficult to predict what some insane people will do to others these days.

Two of my friends and I share this old house in a family neighborhood. This is the first time I've ever spent a whole day by myself. There is always someone else here if it isn't my boyfriend. I'm now regretting cancelling the trekking trip to Spain. I'm not sure why I feel the need to make a huge deal out of the fact that everyone missed my day. After all, no one has ever done it before, so why make such a huge deal about it now? All I can do is blame juvenile conduct, which appears to be too late. Of course, I am terrified.

Even silence can be frightening, and I despise the sound of my own loud, heavy breathing. My phone rings again, and this time it's my personal number; the ring tone on my BlackBerry is the song "Disturbia," which serves as a further wake-up call to my dilemma while I am busy mourning why I chose to stay behind. I yelp in reaction to the ringing at first, but then I realize I can call for assistance. All I can do now is remain seated in a secure place and wait. I dash to my bedside and grab my phone off the nightstand.

"Hello," I say without checking the caller ID.

"Wow, who'd have guessed you'd already miss me this much?" Brandon was the one.

"Brad?" I ask, panting as if I've been running for hours.

"Are you okay? I'm calling to inform you that our flight has been cancelled due to severe weather."

"That's good. Brad, listen," I snatch his line, sobbing. "Someone is in the house. I'm scared," I am whispering and panting heavily, so that it's obvious how horrified I am.

"Wow, wow," I could hear him exclaim over the phone. "I will call the cops and I will find a way to get home. I don't care if I have to swim. Where are you now?"

"I'm now in my room. Hiding," It's difficult for me to stop crying any longer. As if this guy can hear me talk, he begins banging on my door, but with the goal of breaking it down. "Brad!" I scream as loudly as I can and race to the door, dropping the phone. I march over to it and slam a drawer shut, blocking the passage and strengthening the latch. I take a step back while crying and staring at the door. I hate to admit it, but I'm afraid I'll die before any help arrives.

"You'd best get out of here," I yelled loudly. "Help is close by," I say, trying to frighten whoever is standing on the other side of the door.

"Ashly," nothing is natural about his voice. "Oh, Ashly?" It's spooky and loud in a mocking way. He must have figured out that I was trying to make him go away.

"What are you looking for?" I inquire. I'm not hoping for a reply; rather, I'm hoping to buy myself some time.

"What would I want if not you?" he answers after a little pause, and I force a swallow.

"Who are you? How did you come to know my name?" no response. "I beg you, don't hurt me." I'm thinking about how I can get on his good side.

"I would have hurt you already if I wanted to." I believe him. Who knows how long he's been in the house? I'm sure he was with me the entire day, and the notion of it makes my skin respond with goosebumps all over. The possibility that he was in the same room with me raises the anxiety that he might be sharing this room now, even though it's impossible. When I turn around and look behind me, all I see is blackness since the screen's light has gone out completely. "I just want to have some fun," he says, but I go into my drawer to get a candle I purchased days earlier. "Open the door. It won't take long, I guarantee it," he declares. No need for a wild guess at what won't take long.

"Listen up, my boyfriend is imminent. He'll be here in no time."

"I'm banking on that," he says as he slams the door once, and I scream, pushing the drawer harder against the door to double secure it anyway.

After a few minutes, everything becomes completely silent. I reach for my handbag, pull out my cigarette, and light it. I'm not craving it, but rather looking for a brief respite.

I get back to the candle and start lighting it on the side table. I sit on the floor by the foot of the bed, concentrating on the door. Was he with me the entire day, or did he simply say that to make a mockery of me? After all, I was certain there was no one in the house until after six o'clock, when I sensed the presence of another person. Damn the light outage. Actually, damn this old house. It's not working even under a clear sky, let alone under heavy rain. We can afford it and it's nice to throw a party, but it's not as functional as we hope it will be. I'm suddenly hating everything about every decision I have ever made throughout the day or even a year back. That's how I am when I review my actions.

There has been no sound for an hour. I take a few steps closer to the door, but the ringing of my phone causes me to jump, so I hurry back to it. I entirely forgot about it for a while. Fear has turned me around for the first time in my life, and I am now submissive. I've never stood by my ideas, listened to counsel, or even followed my own views, but it seems like I'm starting now.

"Brad," I whisper to the phone.

I believe he has arrived. "Babe, I couldn't find the key," he says. "Perhaps you misplaced it?" My conjecture makes me grimace, yet it might happen. "It might also be washed away," he suggests, and it is true if not taken by the men in the house.

As I approached the window to peer out, I cautioned him, "Please be careful, he is still in the house."

"As long as you remain still, I'll be alright."

"I can't see you. I'm by my window." I said, eager to see him. I never missed him this much. It still feels unreal that he is here.

"Wait." He remains silent on the phone, but I can hear him walking away from the house; I can hear the splashing water and heavy rain as he moves. I can see him well after he gets to the other side of the road. It takes a few moments for me to see him, but it is well worth the wait. He's drenched from the hard rain, but he's happy to see me. "I see you, love," he says as he waves his left arm at me, and I chuckle as I lean against the window, my left hand on it.

"It's awfully quiet here," I whisper to him. "It's been an hour, but I believe he's still here."

"Wait." As he peered into the house, he said. "I think I saw someone." He says as he approaches the house.

"Don't do it, babe. No, no, no... " I am crying. I wish I had some sort of power to stop him from approaching the house. "Please don't get any closer. Please get back. I can't see you. " I burst out in a loud scream that my lungs could take. For a while, through the phone, I could still hear his movement and the rain. I can not make any clear understanding from what I am listening to, but I can hear banging, and it seems like it is against the door. I hear Brad's yelling, but it's hard to make any sense of it. There's some sort of sound that feels like a scuffle. I feel short of breath, like I am about to die, my left-hand fingers going through my hair and then pressing on my chest, and as if it helps, I would mute my lips behind it, but I am still listening until I don't hear anything at all. "Brad, Brad," I scream, but there is no response.

I dash to the door and push it open by clearing the obstruction. All I can think of is Brandon. Something is happening to him and I cannot forgive myself. "Brad," I yelled once, realising that the great silence had enslaved the entire house. As I walk to the stairwell and down, I take a moment to breathe deeply and relax. At this point, I know I have to be prepared for the worst. I walk to the kitchen on the right side of the front door, which is now wide open. I look around and there is nothing but an empty, fancy old-fashioned kitchen. I quietly race to the counter, grab a knife, and race out of the house.

"Brad!" I scream and open the door, but no one, not even a body, appears. I take three steps forward on the damp porch, my bare foot sliding into the ankle-high rainwater. I understand why he can't seem to find the spare key. As I continue going, I spot his rucksack floating on the road and race to it. "Brad!" I call out for him, hoping to find him.

"Surp..." A voice came into my ears from behind me, and I didn't have time to think. I whirl around, spinning the knife in my hand towards the direction of the speaker.

Jane's lover, Kevin, has had his neck sliced by the knife I swung in my hand, and his blood is dripping all over me. I'm not sure if it's the shock or the anxiety that has tightened my grip on the knife. I'm still gasping for oxygen and in desperate need of assistance. I simply do not understand what is going on right now.

"Oh, God," another voice from behind me, and I swing my hand again, suddenly spinning around, stabbing Brad in the throat with the knife in my palm. For a moment, I just gaze at him while he stares back. I'm breathing heavily as I stare back at his wide open eyes and hands on his throat. Then a complete silence appears, and everything becomes clear to my apprehension.

"Brad!" I cried. His horrified gaze is riveted on mine. His emaciated frame kneels in front of me, his blood-splattered palm clutching the knife in his neck. I can feel air in my heart, a cold breath as if there is no gravity or air, only wind in my chest and heart as if something opened my ribs apart and I could feel everything.

An ear-piercing scream awakens me, and I whirl around to see who is behind me. Jane and Kisha are both terrified. Both my friends have fallen victim to the horror show. They have a banner that reads, "Happy Birthday to Ashly." in their hands. They are terrified by the reality of the situation they are witnessing. Jane drops the banner as she sobs while speeding to Kevin's frail body drowning in his own blood mixed with rain. Kisha hugs Jane as she goes over to Kevin's body, weeping.

"What have I done?" I whisper breathlessly. I look down at where Brandon is struggling to breath. "Brad," I say as I kneel next to him and lift his head in my embrace, and I can feel his body getting heavier. "Please, wake up. Please." He closes his eyes just as I hold him. "Come on, open your eyes," I sob as loud as possible, competing with the rain. He gently opens his eyes, revealing a glimmer of hope.

"I'm... I'm... sorry... I lo..." He couldn't manage to complete his words; he simply stayed still; his lips gasped and his eyes opened. No matter how hard I scream or sob, I can't bring him or Kevin back to life.

My ostensible birthday surprise was themed "A Terrifying Night", inspired by my favorite scary movie genre choices.