The night is black. Not your classic type of ebony though.
No. Tonight is…different. A thick, dense kind of black. An ‘under the blankets’ suffocating kind of black.
It has a tone. A feel. A vibe. An energy.
I’m not a hippie but it’s true.
It seems to swallow everything in its wake. All sounds. All sight. Not a silhouette to be seen.
It’s made me dredge up all the bravado I can muster just to calmly sit in one place. Just to keep my hands from trembling. Just to keep my breathing steady.
Maybe I should listen to that voice inside my head. Maybe I should go someplace for the night.
Nah. I’ll be fine. I’m just paranoid.
The house creaks. I jump.
“This is stupid. I’ll just flip on the tv and all will be fine.” So I grab the remote. But…nothing. It won’t turn on.
My throat dries. To the extreme of the Sahara Desert. My heart starts to race. My palms get slick with sweat.
I walk to the door. A profound calm washing over me. The calm before the storm I gather. I twist the knob and…locked.
It doesn’t occur to me to unlock the door. A simple switch of the latch and I could be free. But you made sure I wouldn’t think of such a thing. You erased it from my memory, for this scene.
I try to swallow. Fighting the panic that’s threatening to implode.
My chin starts to quiver. A tear stings my eye. But I cannot have that. I cannot let the dam break. I have to think…think.
But all logical thought evades me the second the lights blink out. All sound thought are sound no longer.
Desperately attempting to keep my composure I feel my way to the bedroom. Our bedroom. The one safe place I can go. You’ve told me in advance where to hide. Not that I’d remember of course.
I grab my precious stuffie, Blue, and hide at the very, very back of the corner closet. It’s silly honestly. I’m not running from anything.
Yet.
I clutch Blue to my chest. Burying my face in his soft fur. Telling myself over, and over, and over that it’s going to be okay. That it’ll be over soon. That you’ll be home, and laugh. You’ll come home, flip on the breaker, and all will be we-
What was that. What. The fuck. Was that?
The stairs. Leading up to our bedroom. They creak in an eerily peculiar kind of melody the moment they bear weight. And they’re singing now. Singing their haunting song.
I hold my breath as I count the steps. Praying that it’s you. Praying that you’re just playing a stupid game.
But no. It is not to be.
I hear casual humming. Drifting underneath the door, tickling my ears. My body freezes. Blood drains from my face.
The humming gets closer. Louder.
I shut my eyes. Trying in vain to block out the sound. Block out the events that are unravelling. Unravelling like a poorly made quilt whose threads come undone with the slightest pull.
The bedroom. Our bedroom. The stranger enters our sacred place. Our sacred room. My chest swells with territorial indignance. My upper lip raises in the beginnings of a snarl.
But that all fades rather quickly. The attitude, the pride, everything. It all vaporizes into the air as if never there in the first place as footsteps stalk across the carpet. Heavy footsteps.
I cower further into the closet as if I could become one with the wall. As if I could become smaller, invisible.
But it is not to be.
My body starts to shake. The footsteps have halted. Right in the front of the closet door. I place a hand over my mouth. Tears threatening to spill over and onto my cheeks.
“My, my little one. I could hear you breathing from the hall. You need to learn to hush.”
And with that the closet doors fling open, revealing an unfamiliar face.
An unfamiliar face that I’ve kissed a thousand times. An unfamiliar face that I’ve studied countless times.
“We’re going to have lots of fun, you and me. So why don’t you come out, hm? Trust me. I’m sure you would much rather come out on your own accord.”
(To all my 37 followers and those who’ve magically stumbled upon this piece: stay tuned for part 2. Or don’t. Whatever 🤟🏼)
Uncensored Eloquence 