Your heart is pounding. You can feel the danger in the room with every fiber of your being. The hairs on your neck are standing straight up, your breath is hard to control.
The walls are pulsing. Beads of water race down the concrete slabs, resembling sweat. A single light bulb is flickering. Each time it goes out, the shadow of a being is revealed You hear its footsteps, wet and racing. It’s creeping around the room.
Around you.
Faces emerge and disappear as if they were waves in the ceiling. All screaming, all at different times. They have no features, just open mouths that look as though they’re fighting their way through.
The floor shifts, causing you to fall. Pain travels through your body, first at your hip, then to your shoulders. The shadow runs at you. You hear the water splashing as it stomps in your direction. The warmth radiates off of it, you feel a slight tickle of hair and then the light flickers back on.
It vanished.
The faces are still fighting their way through, screaming all the while. It never ends. You have to find a way out, but how? The light goes out again, the sound of the being walking returns amongst the cries and your pounding heart. You can’t get up, you’re stuck.
“Grey walls,” you shakily whisper.
The screaming quiets, but only some. The splashing of the being’s footsteps pick up speed again, racing towards you. Does it have four legs, or two? You can’t tell. It crashes into you, running right over your body. The walls continue to pulse, seeming to close in on you.
“A small window,” you notice above you. Light trickles in and you notice there’s no sunshine, but grey skies coming through. “Clouds.”
The light comes back on. The dripping of water from the walls intensifies, you realize it’s pouring in from outside. “Rain.”
The light begins to flicker again, this time more rapidly. You notice the being is much smaller than you saw before. “Dog. My dog!”
You feel yourself begin to pull through.
“Cold.” You notice the sensation in the water that now surrounds you, in the air you’re gasping in.
The screams intensify again but the faces are fading. The walls continue to pulse, growing and shrinking with every breath you take. You lift a hand and you feel the being approach you again.
“Fur.” Yes, this is your dog. It now sits next to you as you lie on the ground. You can feel the wet, thick wool of the old husky you know and love, the sweet little shit that knocked you over in excitement.
The screaming continues.
You place your other hand on the ground next to you. “Wet.” Are you outside? You run your fingers through the shallow pull of water that you’ve fallen into and then place your palm flat. “Concrete.” Yes, outside.
“Rain.” You can hear it more clearly now, the pitter-patter of it hitting the walls, the cold floor, and you.
The window begins to grow. Suddenly you realize there was never a window at all. It’s the sky, encased in wood almost like a picture in a frame.
“Panting.” Your dog hasn’t left your side. You’re still holding him. He’s more clear now, his dumb eyes looking at you with his tongue sticking out. He’s breathing heavily.
A massive eruption emits from the clouds above. You see the light flicker again, but this time you notice it’s lightening. “Thunder.”
You take a deep breath in through your nose. The screaming is dull now. The walls you’re surrounded by are no longer pulsing, but still dripping with water. You see that they’re not walls at all, but more like supports.
“Trees.” Yes, you can smell them clear as day. You’re in a park. You were on a walk.
You prop yourself up on your elbow. Your dog looks you in the eyes and huffs in your face.
“Breath.” You say, disgusted. Why do dogs smell like that?
You look around, taking in your new environment. Reality. You’re in a pergola in the woods, put up by the Boy Scouts and surrounded by beautiful flowers.
“Blood.” You can taste the iron in your mouth. You must have bit your tongue when you were knocked over.
Your heart rate returns to a safer rhythm. You were on a walk, and it happened. You were alone and you got yourself through it.
That’s a first.
Emily has tried everything, but after enduring years of emotional abuse from her ex, she has slowly started to worry that her son Aaron will become the man his father is. She thought she raised him so well, reading books to him nightly, taking him to church, teaching him how to cook and encouraging him to be friends with everyone he meets. Regardless, her son Aaron has shown consistent signs narcissism and callousness. Emily sees the light leave his eyes more and more every day. Big pools of green that used to shine with curiosity and warmth now have a shadow casted over them. They seem more hazel now, or were they always? She’s beginning to feel like she can no longer recognize Aaron in them, but rather she sees the same deep hollowness that overtook the man she once thought was the love of her life. Jim has been worried about her for some time. Sitting on his porch enjoying his morning coffee, he sees Emily and Aaron get in the car to go to school. Emily is wearing a beautiful blue blouse, her hair is pulled loosely back, and she has simple jewelry to pull together the look. He notes the darkness that’s growing deeper under her eyes, aging the woman smiles and waves each morning. Her son never bothers to look up anymore, always consumed with whatever is angering him. Generally, it’s the fact that they’re running late. That boy can be pretty hard on the woman that’s working overtime to make ends meet. Then again, he’s probably just used to seeing her be treated that way- cold, unforgiving, always needing but never giving. Just when Jim thought Emily finally got rid of that ass hole she was with, now she’s raising one. It’s hard to believe. As they get in the car and drive off, Jim hears Emily apologizing to Aaron for oversleeping and he thinks back to 10 years earlier. Emily has been living next door since she was a teenager. When her parents moved, she bought the house from them. She was always smiling, dancing, and laughing. Jim and his wife loved her dearly. In fact, she was there when his Iris got sick. Emily would cook extra for dinner and bring it over, claiming she never knew how to cook for only three. Jim knew that wasn’t true, her and that man lived alone since they were just kids. Either way, he appreciated her greatly. Iris always did all of the cooking, and when she got sick he quickly realized he couldn’t whip up a boiling pot of water without burning the hot pads next to the stove. Aaron used to come over with her to bring the food. Sometimes they’d try their hand at baking, too. Iris always loved their peanut butter cookies, said they tasted like her mother’s. What happened to that boy? How can you have a mother that carries so much love and end up so hateful? The sound of tires screeching pulls Jim from his trance of memories. The cool morning fog and peaceful birds chirping fade to the background as Emily rushes Aaron out of the car. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be home as soon as I can!” She yells as she quickly pulls off. Aaron looks pissed. He scuffles to the front door and slumps his shoulders in a rage. “Fuck!” He yells, “she has the damn keys!” Jim watches, confused, as Aaron goes around the house to try to find an unlocked window. Eventually, he comes back to the front steps and sits, defeated. The birds have begun to chirp again. “You alright son?” Jim asks. “Yeah, yeah, sorry Jim I didn’t notice you there.” His tone changed, Jim noted. There’s still some respect left in him, just not for his mother. “What happened?” Aaron gets up and walks over with his hands in his front pockets. “Oh, my mom got a call about my grandpa and decided not to take me to school. She’s going to pick him up and bring him back, but there’s no room for the wheelchair and me so she thought it’d be quicker to drop me off. Of course, the day I don’t grab my set of keys. How have you been?” Funny, Jim has sat out here every morning and afternoon but this is the first time Aaron has talked to him in years.
