Siran

Tap. Tap. Tap. BOOMMM!!!!

Tap. Tap. Tap

My eyes force themselves open, slow as molasses. My limbs are dumbbells as I rip myself off the mattress to investigate the crash that brought me to my senses.

The constant tapping comes from a leak in my ceiling right beside my coffee-stained mattress that has no bed frame or night stand to accompany it. The rhythmic tapping that once drove me through the roof now lulls me to sleep, sends me into a drug-like trance that I barely escape when it comes time to wake up. My feet hit the cold stone and my nerves fire at random making me wince.

I slowly force my muscles and joints to move me into a standing position. I am the embodiment of pain. Ever since my diagnosis of fibromyalgia when I was a child, I've been in pain. If there was a billboard for pain, I'd be the face of it. Anyways… you get the idea.

My joints pop and creak as I roam the room of my dirty apartment. Fear grips my throat and I struggle to breathe for I've lived alone for over a year now. Well, that, and it's 3 am… the prime hour for murders, the witching hour if you will. Cue the cheap scary music.

I feel something colder than death grasp my arm, and a bloodcurdling scream escapes me. A bone-chilling, backwards siren wouldn't do that noise justice. The feel of cold, dead fingers remains with me even after they slide from my bicep. What the hell was that? I feel panic settle in as my breath catches in my throat. Something just grabbed my arm. Something… not someone. "Hissssssss" the creature screams. A pair of icy blue eyes illuminate through the dark room as the creature continues to make that strange noise.

I fumble for the light, but my clumsiness gets the better of me, dragging me to the floor in one foul swoop.

The noise gets closer, and I squeeze my eyes shut because if I can't see it it's not real. Right?! Then silence. Even the tapping of the sewer water ceases. My heart slowly steadys, and I open my eyes once more.

The eyes staring back at me make my heart stop all together. Paralyzed by fear, I've become mute. No sound escapes me as I look death straight in the face. All I can do is stare at the blue glowing eyes threatening to consume me.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

I startle awake … again. Though this time it's due to my god awful alarm. I curse my tendency to wake up at 5:30 to work out. I shoot up and switch on the light in less than half a second. The cold doesn't bother me. The pain doesn't bother me. What bothers me is the deafening silence filling the room.

It hasn't felt this still since Jamie died.

I pick my eyes up to look at the leaky ceiling and find that there's a sheet of ice there instead. What the hell is happening? Am I dead? I'm dead. I pinch myself hard enough to leave a bruise, and all the pain comes flooding back. OW! Not dead. Got it. Sarah, you dumbass, why would you still be stuck in the same mold-infested, mildew-smelling apartment if you were dead? I swiftly grab the keys to my 10 year old black toyota after pulling on a pair of mud-drenched sneakers and glide out the door. I don't know where I'm going, but one thing's for certain...

I'm getting out of this place, and I'm never coming back.