The Window

Like I said, I wanted to share some of my writings. This piece was written after I had a REALLY weird, vivid nightmare back in 2012.

I was sound asleep when the bizarre events began to unfold. It was a hot night in August, unusually calm and quiet. A stiff, still kind of night. A faint tapping on my window roused me from my slumber. The air was dense and moist.  Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sat up in my bed trying to gather my surroundings, cautiously avoiding eye contact with my suddenly ominous window. I reasoned that a tree branch was probably scraping against the glass, but panic rose in my chest, as the tapping grew more rapid. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. I looked towards my window as anxiety consumed my heart. Tree branches did not have enough rhythm to create the steady tapping, but there was nothing of this world that could tap on a window 20 feet off the ground. My heart began mimicking the rapid tapping coming from the other side of the glass. Ta-thump, ta-thump, ta-thump, ta-thump, ta-thump. I flopped back down into bed and pressed my pillow over my face, silently trying to convince myself that the tapping on my window was just my heart rattling in my ribcage. The tapping grew louder, more intense. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. A low, entrancing hum began to mix in with the taps. I sat up in bed again and looked at my window as a wave of unusual calmness enveloped me. Anxiety absconded and was replaced with great inquisitiveness.

            A striking white light glowed silently in the stillness of the night just outside my window. The tapping had ceased but the hum murmured steadily. Curiosity got the better of me and finally coaxed me from the safety of my bed; I whipped my comforter off my body and gingerly slipped onto the floor. My oversized t-shirt slowly separated from my sweaty back and dangled just above my knees. Standing at the head of my bed, I worked my chilled feet into my worn-down slippers and scuffled blindly across my floor, stumbling on dirty blouses and tattered, mud-covered running shoes. The white light and lulling hum drew me closer and closer to my window. I dropped to my knees and began moving the mountain of useless stuffed animals that inhabited the floor space beneath my central window; the windows on either side leaked even more of the amazing white light into my room as the beams drew me closer and closer to the inner window.

            With the stuffed animals strewn about my floor like body parts at a gruesome crime scene, the only thing separating me from the humming beacon outside was the sheer black curtain and venetian blinds. I yanked the curtains to the side and the glow magnified slightly. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.The sound startled me, and I jumped in my skin. My palms began to sweat and cold perspiration beaded on my warm forehead. My stomach rolled over on itself and I could feel butterflies pulsating nervously through my core. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. The light grew brighter and the hum became more irresistible. Whatever was tapping was just on the other side of the blinds; the idea of coming face to face with whatever was tapping on the other side of the glass sent waves of nervous excitement crashing down on me. I slowly raised my arm and grabbed the cord of the blinds. Taking a deep breath, I drew open the window covering and came face to face with… nothing. The tapping was silent, the hum no more, the light doused. Had I imagined the entire ordeal? I peered out of my window, feeling hollow, disappointed. I tugged on the blind cord again and the wooden slats clattered shut on the windowsill. I placed the curtain back over the window and began to turn toward my bed.

            Before I could turn my body, ice-cold, pale white skin flashed before my eyes and blinded me. Before I could let out a yelp, more ice-cold skin concealed my mouth. Two long clammy, bony fingers lay across my eyelids. Two more fingers pressed my lips shut. Only my nose was visible to enable my rapid, panicked breathing. My heart thundered in my chest, my lungs clenched; I felt tears beginning to press against the back of my eyelids and I tried to let muffled screams escape but the wiry hands clasped tighter around my head. I could hear the humming return.  Then everything went black. As silent, and empty, as death.

I always felt like I wanted to publish a book full of short stories and poems I’ve written over the years, but I never got around to it. ANYWAY, I hope you liked this piece.



One thought on “The Window

  1. Well… that was an intense read and very well written too.
    I’ll have to see what else you have typed up. Keep up the good work, Shannon.


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