Authors: Mandy White
~ 12 ~
The disturbing dreams were taking their toll on me. It seemed odd that I’d be having trouble getting a decent night’s sleep given that I didn’t have anything better to do. I seemed to spend a lot of time in bed asleep, but I felt tired and frazzled just the same.
I thought perhaps a nice hot bubble bath would relax me. I filled the tub with scalding water and a copious amount of lavender bubble bath. I lit a scented candle and a stick of incense to cover the lingering smell of disinfectant. I still had no memory of doing any cleaning, but pine oil hung heavy in the air beneath the blend of lavender, lilac and sandalwood.
I tested the water with my toe before stepping into the tub. Hot, but just cool enough to be bearable. Perfect. I lay back in the water, surrounded by clouds of fragrant foam. I folded a washcloth and placed it over my eyes, which felt puffy and bloodshot from lack of rest.
Ahh! Paradise
. There was nothing like a hot soak to melt one’s worries away.
I must have dozed off, because when I removed the cloth from my eyes the candle had burnt out, the bubbles had dissolved and the bathwater was tepid. Teeth chattering, I gripped the edge of the tub to sit up.
I couldn’t move.
Something was holding me down, pinned under the water with only my head above the surface.
Panic tightened my chest. I had a fear of drowning, but had always considered the bathtub to be a safe and controlled aquatic environment. I fought the invisible force that held me down and finally managed to push myself into a sitting position.
The water was no longer clear. I was sitting in a thick, reddish-black soup that reeked of disinfectant.
I screamed and lunged for the side of the tub but before I could gain my footing, the bottom fell away. I flailed, lost my grip and slipped into the inky depths. I managed one last gulp of air before my head went under.
The harder I fought to reach the surface, the faster I sank.
My lungs burned. Being a non-swimmer, I had no idea how long I could hold my breath.
I sank.
Down.
Please let this be a dream!
Down.
Please, wake up! Wake-up-wake-up-wake-up!
Down.
I was going to drown.
Oh god I’m not waking up. I’m going to die!
Unable to hold my breath any longer, I exhaled, then inhaled involuntarily, sucking the viscous liquid into my lungs. I tasted decay.
I woke, gasping lungful after lungful of life-giving air.
The candle still sputtered in its little glass jar. The bubbles had dissolved and the bath was tepid, but the water was clear. I scrambled out of the tub and yanked the plug before the water had a chance to turn into a bottomless pit of rotten blood.
I threw a towel around myself and dashed to the bedroom, where I dove under the covers, shivering and sobbing.
My heart raced and I gasped for air, hyperventilating from the panic attack triggered by the dream. I slid a hand from under the blanket and groped in my nightstand drawer for the small bottle of precious Xanax. I slipped one under my tongue and curled into the fetal position until the drug calmed me.
I was unsure of what to do. Go to sleep and risk more creepy dreams, or make coffee and stay awake? Neither choice seemed ideal, but since it was 3 am, sleep made the most sense.
~*~
~ 13 ~
Zombies at my door again
Scraping, clawing to be let in
Can’t they see I’m happy here?
In my sanctuary, safe from fear
Oh, no! Now they’re trying to phone
Zombies, please leave me alone!
I don’t have advice for you
Can’t you see I have questions too?
It’s clear these zombies just won’t quit
I guess it’s time to give them shit
Grab a rifle and some ammo
Take my aim and then go BLAMMO!
Each time I fire a head explodes
But still the zombies line the roads
The only way to make them go
Is make peace with my relentless foe
* * *
I finished my journal entry with a silly poem about zombies to boost my spirits. I’d found that making fun of the things that frightened me made them seem less dangerous, silly, even.
I felt good. I felt strong – no – I felt
invincible
.
Today was the day.
I was going to do it.
Zombies be damned – I was going to leave the house. It would just be a short trip to the pharmacy to renew my prescriptions and maybe pick up a few necessities.
I hadn’t told Colin I was planning to go out. I wanted to surprise him. When I returned from my outing I’d email him and tell him what I had accomplished. He would be so pleased to hear of the progress I’d made.
I felt brave and strong for the first time since the accident. The terror I’d endured in my recent dreams made the outdoors seem less terrifying. What was there to be afraid of, really? It was just the world, and Colin lived in the world. I wanted nothing more than to be with him, to hold him and kiss him and touch him. He was waiting for me on the other side of that door; all I had to do was open it.
The front door.
The door that led outside, where scary things waited.
No, not as scary as being alone in this house.
I hadn’t heard the hissing monster in a while, so I was pretty confident it was gone. Nothing stood between me and freedom, except that door.
It was just a door.
Turn the knob. C’mon. You know how it works.
I reached for the knob. Just as my hand was about to close around it, someone knocked on the other side of the door.
I froze.
I was not prepared for visitors!
Part of my social phobia included fear of having my personal space invaded. Uninvited visitors were not welcome in my home and I had no intention of inviting anyone in.
I was afraid to move in case the floor creaked and betrayed my presence.
Go away! Whoever you are! I don’t want any of what you’re selling, don’t want to donate or find God, and don’t want to go for coffee with a neighbor. Just go away!
I tried to breathe without making a sound but I was positive the person lurking on the other side of the door could hear the deafening thud that was my heartbeat.
Go away go away go away go away!
Tightness in my lungs signaled an impending panic attack. I took slow breaths through my nose, fighting to stay calm. If I fainted from lack of oxygen, the person on the other side would hear the thump when I hit the floor. Then they’d know I was there and would never leave me alone.
I was trapped inside my only sanctuary and the outside world was encroaching on my personal space.
No! No-no-no-no! This isn’t fair. Leave me alone!
Behind me, the phone rang.
The person at the door was probably standing there calling me from a cell phone, listening with an ear to the door to see if I’d answer.
Nice try, asshole. I wasn’t born yesterday.
I remained frozen in place, tears streaming down my face. There was no way in hell I was going to answer the door or the phone. I wished I could escape to my bedroom where the intruder couldn’t hear me, but I was afraid to move.
The phone rang and rang.
Why the hell isn’t my answering machine picking up?
I had the machine set to pick up after three rings. If I wasn’t going to answer it in three, then I had no plans to pick it up.
The machine should have gotten it by now.
The phone kept ringing.
Nine. Ten. Eleven.
I counted the rings, feet frozen to the floor.
Just go away! What do you want from me?
I screamed inside my head.
Finally, the phone stopped ringing. The knock at the door was not repeated, so it was safe to assume the person at the door had given up and gone away. I moved slowly away from the door, then froze mid-step when I heard another sound.
Voices. Muffled, speaking in low tones, outside on my front porch. I held my breath, straining to hear what they were saying. I thought I heard my name.
Snippets of conversation filtered through the door.
“No response. We’ll keep trying…”
“How much longer do you think we should wait? If she doesn’t come out…” a woman’s voice said.
“I’m not giving up!” a man said. His voice sounded familiar; for a moment I could have sworn it was Colin, but that was ridiculous, of course.
He wouldn’t be at my door
. Colin didn’t even know where I lived. And if he did, he wouldn’t visit uninvited.
The next voice I heard chilled my guts because I recognized it – the stiff, disapproving tone belonged to none other than my Aunt Ellen.
“She’s just doing this to get attention. She loves to make everyone drop everything and pay attention to her! She has always done this sort of thing.”
“How can you say something like that? She’s in there! I know she is!” the man’s voice sounded angry.
“Of course she’s in there, you idiot! I can see she’s got you duped along with these other idiots. I, for one, am not going to stick around and give her the satisfaction. I have better things to do.”
“Go then! I’m staying! I’m not giving up.”
Oh my god! They aren’t going to give up! I’m being stalked! What the hell did I do to deserve this? Go away! Just go away!
I wondered if I should call the police and report the intruders. Then it occurred to me that the intruders might
be
the police.
What have I done?
I scrolled through my memory, looking for things I might have done to make the police want me.
I owned my house, paid my taxes and all of my bills were paid up to date. I was quiet as a mime; my neighbors barely knew I existed. I didn’t do drugs other than my prescriptions and didn’t associate with unsavory people. Hell, I didn’t associate with
any
people.
Colin, where are you when I need you?
Colin would make everything ok. I just needed to get back to my bedroom, where my laptop was.
Afraid to breathe, I crept backward a tiny step at a time. When I reached the bedroom, I ducked inside and pushed the door shut. I leaned against the door frame, listening.
In the living room, the phone started to ring again. It rang once, twice, three times. Four times. Maybe the answering machine had gotten unplugged somehow.
I had better check – wait – what?
Midway through the fifth ring, a woman answered
my
phone.
“A mitten,” she said.
What? A mitten?
Someone had answered my phone. Which meant that someone was in my house!
Why, oh why didn’t I put a lock on my bedroom door?
I’d never considered putting a lock on my bedroom door. Up until that moment, I’d felt secure enough in my own home that I didn’t feel the need to install additional locks inside the house.
I listened for footsteps but heard nothing.
Colin! Help me!
I didn’t know what he could have done to help besides talk to me, but I would have given anything to feel the comfort of his arms around me.
I needed to get out of the house. Too much freaky shit was going on. I needed to get outside and get some fresh air; get a change of scenery.
I needed to find Colin.
I didn’t dare boot up my computer to talk to Colin because the trespasser would hear me. I tiptoed to my bed and burrowed under the duvet, curled into the too-familiar fetal position and waited for the intruder to find me.
At some point, I must have fallen asleep.
* * *
It was dark when I woke.
Darker than usual.
I didn’t remember turning off the lights, but perhaps I had done so to hide from the intruders.
The intruders!
Were the intruders still in the house? Had they stolen anything? Why hadn’t they found me?
I had no answers to any of those questions. I got out of bed, groped my way to the doorway and fumbled for the light switch.
Nothing.
The power was out.
“Shit!” I shouted, momentarily forgetting about the intruders. I clapped a hand over my mouth.
Shut up stupid!
I stood statue-still and listened, hand still covering my mouth. The house was as silent as it was dark. I heard no voices, and no sounds to indicate a storm outside. Then why was the power out?
Maybe the intruders had cut the power. Which meant that they might still be in the house… waiting.
Darkness frightened me. I never allowed my house to become completely dark; I slept with the TV on, and every room contained an LED night-light with a rechargeable battery. Even in a power outage, the house would be dimly lit.
It should not be this dark!
Why was it so dark?
There was only one of two logical answers:
The intruders were still in the house and they had cut the power and taken the batteries out of the night lights.
Or, I had gone blind.
I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them as wide as possible. Was I blind?
I waved my hand in front of my face. I felt a slight breeze from the movement, but saw nothing. I touched my eyes with shaking fingers to confirm that they were in fact open, but I couldn’t visually detect even the hint of a shadow.
Breathe. Don’t hyperventilate. This is no time to panic.
My body disagreed. It insisted that this was actually the perfect time to panic. My knees buckled and I crumpled to the floor.
I needed to get my bearings. From the doorway, I could follow the wall to the closet, where I could hide. I crawled slowly to where the door should have been but my hands touched nothing but empty space. I groped around in all directions, but found nothing but floor. No walls, no furniture, even my bed seemed to be missing. I was lost.
I felt like Helen Keller.
Yeah, and she didn’t give up, so neither will I,
I thought with determination.
I crawled forward further. Sooner or later I was bound to run into something.
The basement stairs. Oh, no!
Maybe I wasn’t in the bedroom anymore! For all I knew I was about to plunge headfirst down the stairs into the basement.
I’d reached my limit. Newfound courage melted away and violent tremors shook my body as sobs took over. I curled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. The feel of the cool floor beneath me was comforting. I caressed the polished hardwood with my hand, relieved to feel something solid, a familiar texture.
My hand touched something soft.
What is this? A piece of my clothing?
I touched the object again and it was definitely fabric, with something solid underneath. A piece of furniture, perhaps.
And then it moved, and something grasped my wrist.
It was a hand.
I screamed, long and loud. I no longer cared who heard me because the intruders had already found me. My only hope now was that one of the neighbors would hear me and call the police.
“HELP ME! HEEELLLP!” I screamed over and over, until I ran out of breath and my voice went hoarse. My face was soaked in sweat. At some point during my screaming fit, the intruder released his grip on me.
I covered my head with my arms and squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for daylight or death, whichever came first.
“Help me,” I whimpered. “Please, somebody help me.”
“I’m here for you, Dana,” a voice came through the darkness.
It was Colin. I could hear him as clearly as if he were in the room with me. The sound of his voice equally soothed and terrified me. My laptop was turned off, so how the hell was I able to hear him?
Maybe
he
was the intruder! Maybe he wasn’t a charming psychology student at all, but a creepy Internet stalker.