It’s a moonless night. The room is pitch black, illuminated only by the dim red light from the clock on the nightstand. Quinton lay asleep on his queen size bed. He looks peaceful resting on his back, head slightly turned to right, covered up to his waist by a single sheet. A loud knock at the door awakens him from a deep sleep. He looks at the clock. 3:03 am. He looks puzzled, wondering why someone would be knocking at his bedroom door this time of night. He stares at the door awaiting another knock. “Quinton” the voice behind the door says, sounding more like summon. He recognizes his roommate’s voice and says “Yea, come in.”
“Shit!” Quinton whispers to himself. He remembers his roommate is away for another two weeks and couldn’t possibly be behind his door. He is reminded of the stern instructions his mother gave him as a child. Never answer Yes when someone is calling your name at strange hours – it’s the devil calling you. He doesn’t want to believe it, but he knows burglars and murderers don’t knock. Nor do they politely call out names and wait for permission to enter. What seemed like an urban legend back then, now had his heart racing. His thoughts are too late he thinks, as the door begins to slowly open. The room’s darkness makes it impossible to see who, or what, was walking in.
“Who are you?” Quinton demands. A combination of fear and anger mate with his vocals. The shadowy figure doesn’t respond, but gradually moves closer. It’s head moves side-to-side as if studying Quinton. Before it reaches the bed Quinton attempts to jump out ready to fight, however, his body only jerks. He feels paralyzed, a choking sensation grapples his neck. The more he tries to move, the greater the sensation. The shadow hovers over him, still studying. Quinton does the only thing he can do. He recites “Our Father,” tripping over the words. After a few seconds it begins to walk backwards to the door. Quinton slowly regains motor function the closer the shadow gets to the exit. Finally, the door closes behind it.
Quinton feels like his heart is bursting out of his chest. He managed to work up a sweat during the experience, his sheets are moist. Although he can move, he does not get out of bed. Instead he turns on the tv to provide some light. He lays there for hours, nerves on edge wondering if it real or only a dream.
– Vic Louis 1/12/11 11:33PM
Couldn’t sleep, tried something different. This is what came to mind, while I sat up in bed in complete darkness. These sun-blocking curtains are serious. They are dark red by day, but by night they look like two black holes.
p.s. I hate snow