I wake in the dark.
I live alone.
But… someone is in the room with me!
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(c) 2012 Simon Goodson.
Story Disclaimer
Who’s There?
There is nothing more terrifying than waking up at home in
the dark and sensing someone, or something, nearby. Dark alleys, dark car parks, dark woods can
scare you, chill you to the bone, but part of that fear is a desire to run… to
run home… run in… slam the door. When
the terror strikes in your home, in your own bed… then there’s nowhere to run
to, nowhere safe.
I woke that night and knew someone was in the room. The house is on a quiet road, the main
bedroom at the rear and facing a field backed by woodland. It was always quiet at night, but this was
different. The quiet had a velvet feel,
smothering me. I lay as still as I could
trying to keep my breathing smooth and deep even as my heart pounded in my
chest. I lay there ears straining for
the slightest sound, body tingling as if it too was trying to feel any
vibration, any hint of the intruder. I’m
a grown man but I can tell you I was absolutely petrified. I could feel the presence in the room, feel
it holding still, feel it watching me. I
was facing the window, though no light made it through the thick curtains, my
back to the door. I became more and more
certain that the intruder was behind me, near the door.
I must have lain there for minutes straining for any sound,
eyes cracked open trying to pierce the dark to see a shadow or any hint of
movement. Finally I squeezed together
enough courage to move. My hand shot out
to find the bedside lamp’s cord, fumbled it, found the switch and turned it
on. I followed the motion through with
my body, half rolling half falling off the bed and landing on the floor by the
window.
As I rolled off the bed I heard the bedroom door slam open,
banging into the chest of draws behind it, bouncing back off. By the time I was facing the door, blinking
at the brightness from the lamp, the door had almost closed – hiding any view
of the landing. I could hear
though. I heard footsteps rushing down
the stairs followed by the creak of the back door. I quickly turned to the window, yanked back
the curtains, but it was pitch black outside.
Thick winter clouds had rolled in earlier in the day and were now
blocking any star or moonlight. Even if
I hadn’t destroyed my night sight by turning on the lamp I wouldn’t have seen
anything.
For that matter I wasn’t sure there was anything to
see. I’d heard the back door go, but
surely the night would be as dark for anyone else. Without a torch or light of some sort how far
could they get? Had they even left? Were they alone?
I felt nearly as scared as before, but in a different
way. The paralysis had gone now,
something primal was rising… a deep anger.
Not banishing the fear but complimenting it. I scanned the room quickly for something,
anything to use as a weapon. Grabbed the
fist sized lump of granite with a clock on that an Aunt had given me years
before. The weight of it in my hand felt
good, gave me a warm feeling seeping through my body that helped chase out some
of the fear. Like I said – primal. Underneath a couple of thousand years of
civilisation the instincts of our ancestors still burn. Terror in the night? Grab a rock, a stick, anything you can use as
a weapon.
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