THE BLACKEST GIFT
Sunlight had long since disappeared. The cold night of darkness surrounded everything around me now. There were no shadows to be seen. The curtains were flapping in the quiet and gentle breeze. I had tossed and turned all night long, attempting to avoid the inevitable. I finally gave in to the sleep I had so long deprived myself of. I awoke to an uneasy feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was just not right.
I began to slowly inch myself up against the hard wood of my headboard. It was cold and harsh against my bare, shirtless back. I squinted my eyes hard against the dark night, forcing them closer together in hopes of adjusting them to see better in my inky black room. For a split second, I thought I had seen two blood red eyes gazing back at me from across the room.
Before I could take a second chance, I was rushed by an invisible force. I was pinned to the headboard as I felt two searing pains in the hollow of my neck. A warm liquid began streaming in two small rivers over my shoulders and down my chest eventually staining my ivory white sheets. The room began to smell of a thick rusty copper odor.
I had enough strength left in me to adjust my head slightly to the right. It was blood, my blood, that I had felt flowing down my body. It was my blood that had caused that strange pungent odor. It was then that the creature of the night materialized in front of my face. He was draining every last ounce of life I had left in me from my ever-increasing, dying body.
NOTHING BUT A BLUR
I am haunted in my dreams by visions of the scythe, hacking away at the lifeless, bloody corpse. The body lies in a bed of fresh flowers originally bright yellow but now stained with the color of blood. Flashing back in time before the murder, she was dainty, no doubt about that. But all I can hear is the screaming cries coming from her mouth as she is being chased by some unseen person. Flashing forward, I see a man’s hands covered in claw marks and blood gripping on to the woman’s hair, dragging her along side him in an easy feat. I follow discretely behind in hopes of helping the woman be freed from her torturer. I stepped forward hoping to get closer as I did I snapped a fallen twig underfoot. The man turned his head in my direction. His face nothing but a black blur. I recall everything I saw that day, save his face. I will forever be haunted by this monstrous, faceless man. It is too late now to save the woman. Now it is I who needs to be saved.
The piercing alarm sounds and startles me awake. I immediately, and without thinking, slam down my hand on the snooze button. The room goes silent once again. I mumble something unintelligible and barely audible. The covers thrown over my head as if they will hide me from the oncoming day’s monotony. Curled up in a fetal position, I finally fall back to sleep. The piercing alarm sounds and startles me awake. I immediately slam down my hand on the snooze button. The room goes silent again. I mumble something yet barely audible. The covers thrown over my head as if they will hide me from the oncoming day’s monotony. Curled up in a fetal position, I finally fall back to sleep. The piercing alarm sounds and startles me awake. I immediately slam down my hand on the snooze button, but then switch the alarm button off. I grumble, “Fuck!” This time it’s audible and clearly a sign of my morning hostility. The covers thrown over my head as if they will hide me from the day’s monotony. I curl up in a fetal position and fall back to sleep. The piercing alarm sounds from the cell phone this time and startles me awake. I kick the covers off me and begrudgingly get out of bed to begin another Groundhog Day.