This is an excerpt from one of my current works in progress :Whispers of Dead. Let me know what you think. I LOVE feedback!
The strangest of occurrences. Aghast with fright, eyes wide, pupils straining to turn murky shadows into solidity. Sweat beads across my brow. The thundering beat of my heart moves steadily from ears to throat impeding what little air my lungs are able to acquire. The increasing rhythm of a taxed cardiac system falls slightly as my the heightened sense of hearing turns every minute noise into a deafening boom.
A steady squeak. A long creak. Pop. The air becomes chilled as the heat escapes outside. The back door. Frozen with fear eyes more pupils than whites peak through a sliver beneath my heavy comforter.
Voices. Muffled like someone talking to me while my heads under water. A soft snore sounds from the pile of flesh beside me. So much for the protection of a man. Why isn't my dog barking?
Is the teenager sneaking out? Dragging my trembling knees from the false safety of bed I tip toe to investigate.
The door is closed. Everyone is sleeping. The milk jug dangles mid air in the yellow light of the open refrigerator door. I can hear them drinking from the jug. I see them jug. Before my very eyes the lid is replaced, jug is returned to the shelf, door swiftly closed.
Darkness. The aroma of a lit cigarette. A distant sound of running water. Silence.
I lingered frozen with fear, convinced my night tremors must've returned from childhood. The dream test!
Slowly I made way back to the bedroom. Lifting the paper from the bedside table I read the date out loud.
Its not a dream if you can read. Diving back to the safety of the covers my head swam with confusion.
Questions. Fear. Must hold onto reality. I can't tell anyone.
This is just what he is waiting for. If he finds out I fear the cheese is sliding from my cracker he will be able to safely lock me away. They can take everything I have worked for and leave me to a padded room with crayons for company.
No! I must be vigilant. There is a truth here and it will be revealed. The possibilities weighed heavily on my mind manifesting themselves in vivid dreams.
The journey began. Looking back now the terror felt in those first dreams paled in comparison to the nightmare of the truth.
One question is left to be answered: Is it I that haunts her or she that haunts me? Which of us is dead?
The strangest of occurrences. Aghast with fright, eyes wide, pupils straining to turn murky shadows into solidity. Sweat beads across my brow. The thundering beat of my heart moves steadily from ears to throat impeding what little air my lungs are able to acquire. The increasing rhythm of a taxed cardiac system falls slightly as my the heightened sense of hearing turns every minute noise into a deafening boom.
A steady squeak. A long creak. Pop. The air becomes chilled as the heat escapes outside. The back door. Frozen with fear eyes more pupils than whites peak through a sliver beneath my heavy comforter.
Voices. Muffled like someone talking to me while my heads under water. A soft snore sounds from the pile of flesh beside me. So much for the protection of a man. Why isn't my dog barking?
Is the teenager sneaking out? Dragging my trembling knees from the false safety of bed I tip toe to investigate.
The door is closed. Everyone is sleeping. The milk jug dangles mid air in the yellow light of the open refrigerator door. I can hear them drinking from the jug. I see them jug. Before my very eyes the lid is replaced, jug is returned to the shelf, door swiftly closed.
Darkness. The aroma of a lit cigarette. A distant sound of running water. Silence.
I lingered frozen with fear, convinced my night tremors must've returned from childhood. The dream test!
Slowly I made way back to the bedroom. Lifting the paper from the bedside table I read the date out loud.
Its not a dream if you can read. Diving back to the safety of the covers my head swam with confusion.
Questions. Fear. Must hold onto reality. I can't tell anyone.
This is just what he is waiting for. If he finds out I fear the cheese is sliding from my cracker he will be able to safely lock me away. They can take everything I have worked for and leave me to a padded room with crayons for company.
No! I must be vigilant. There is a truth here and it will be revealed. The possibilities weighed heavily on my mind manifesting themselves in vivid dreams.
The journey began. Looking back now the terror felt in those first dreams paled in comparison to the nightmare of the truth.
One question is left to be answered: Is it I that haunts her or she that haunts me? Which of us is dead?
