• I awake from my slumber with a feeling of foreboding nestled deep within my gut. The shutters rattle against the window pane, dancing in the same breeze that has extinguished the candle at my bedside. I throw off my blankets and lurch to my feet. It takes me a few moments to work the panel loose. A shower must have drenched the wood sometime during the night, and the cool breath of winter has frozen it in place. My fingers are soon numb with cold as I scrape at the frost with my fingernails. I smile with triumph as the panel finally slides shut with a resounding thud, and warm my fingers against my feverish cheeks as I peer out into the darkness. The bitter wind howls against the glass voicing displeasure at its banishment, and the majestic oak that has stood next to my window for as long as I can remember doesn’t seem so friendly this dreary night as it drags its gnarled branches against my window.
    Shaken, I turn my back to the eerie world outside my window to face whatever horrors await me in the shadow drenched confines of my room. The door is open a crack allowing a sliver of light to peer in through the darkness. I suppress a whimper as I struggle to relight the candle. My terror fades slightly as the waxy candle flickers to life. I can’t for the life of me remember opening that window before I went to sleep. It always creeps me out to sleep with the window open, but maybe one of my parents had opened it after I’d drifted off into dreamland.
    I snuggle under my downy covers and start feeling lightheaded with fatigue when I feel the call of nature drag me back to awareness. I sit up with an irritated grumble and shuffle towards the door. I pull it open the rest of the way and hobble down the hallway, placing my hand against the wall for balance. The fuzzy carpet warms my toes, and is a welcome change to the cold wooden floors of my bedroom. A shiver runs down my spine as I pass the rooms of my family members, but I shrug it off as paranoia and continue on my way.
    My heart jumps into my throat as I see a shadowy figure waiting for me outside the bathroom. Crying softly, I back away from the man, praying that he hasn’t seen me. My hopes are in vain. The figure steps away from the wall and follows the minute I begin to flee. The nauseating odor of rotted flesh precedes the man down the hallway, his pace quickens as I near the staircase. Scared only begins to describe my feelings as I descend the stairs, desperately searching my mind for a way, any way, to escape. The man is only a few feet away, and gaining ground. His mouth seems to form words but I can’t seem to make them out over the pounding in my ears. My heart is hammering against my ribcage as I vault over the railing. He reaches out to catch me but his hands close on thin air. I realize my mistake and realize that I’m falling ten feet down to what promises to be a very unpleasant landing, headfirst . My skull strikes against something hard, knocking me into insensibility before I come to rest on the rust colored tiles of our kitchen. I run my tongue over my cracked lips and taste a layer of tangy blood. My vision is slowly growing cloudy. My Father’s scream of anguish tears through the veil of silence surrounding my broken body as I slowly drift off into oblivion.