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It wakes her. She stands swiftly. Turns her head. The dark is just shadows, empty. The sound is just midnight shuffling, meek. These do not frighten her. It’s something with no specificity, tangibility or form. Something she is certain of. A presence.
Her breath shudders. It’s out here. Or it’s inside her. It has burrowed into her brain matter. It sits there in her neurons. It sits there, in her throat, in her lungs, in the roof of her mouth.
She tilts her jaw to scream but doesn’t say a word. Her mind screams in her stead:
Get lost. Get out. Get out. Get out.
( Read more... )
Her breath shudders. It’s out here. Or it’s inside her. It has burrowed into her brain matter. It sits there in her neurons. It sits there, in her throat, in her lungs, in the roof of her mouth.
She tilts her jaw to scream but doesn’t say a word. Her mind screams in her stead:
Get lost. Get out. Get out. Get out.
( Read more... )