writer / horror enthusiast


Results for tag: night


Don’t Pick Up Hitchhikers

I know I’m not supposed to pick up hitchhikers. My mom always told me that it’s dangerous out there on the quiet, dark roads for a girl like me. I’m small, quiet, and ultimately I just look like someone who wouldn’t give anyone a problem. All those things combined make me an easy target for the shady elements of our world, and picking up people who are wandering those roads in the dead of night is just asking for trouble.

I’ve ignored that advice plenty of times, though. I’m a grown woman; I know how to handle myself, and sometimes a person just needs a little help to get where they’re going. After all, we’re all human beings, and not everyone out there is a dangerous psychopath who is just waiting to prey on the innocent.Continue Reading

TAP TAP TAP

I lay in bed, covers pulled up to my chin and eyes glued straight up to the ceiling.

TAP TAP TAP

I wouldn’t look over. I wouldn’t and I couldn’t. If I did, I just knew that it would be over. My eyes burned to dart over to the right; to look out of the window and see what there was to see.

TAP TAP TAP

Sweat beaded on my brow, and eventually spilled over into my eye. I blinked rapidly but kept my eyes trained on the ceiling. I stared so hard at it that my vision began to turn grey around the edges. I needed to sleep, but there was no way I could do that while it was out there, waiting for me to look at it.Continue Reading

I Have To Get Some Sleep

Dread is an interesting feeling. It creeps up on you; first starting out as a simple worry, and then transcending into anxiety, and finally tingling its way into full on dread. If you’re a person sensitive enough to your surroundings, almost anything can bring on a small worry. Some people have the tendency to turn those worries into anxiety. That’s usually where it stops; you have a little anxiety over something, but you have a drink or read a book or meditate and you get over it. A smaller percentage still suffer from anxiety or panic attacks, where they let their worries build inside of them until it seems to be all-consuming and powerful. These people often seek treatment in the form of anxiety medication.

But a smaller population still isn’t helped by this type of medication. These people experience bouts of dread which make a panic attack look like a walk in the park on a sunny day. Dread isn’t just a feeling that things are about to take a bad turn. Dread is the feeling of an all-consuming malevolent force actively hunting you, somehow always right behind you. Dread is the idea that you’re not actually alone in that forest clearing after all; that something is watching you from just beyond the trees. Dread isn’t a pair of glowing yellow eyes in those trees, though. It’s much more insidious than that. Dread is the idea that you just saw the yellow eyes as you were scanning the treeline, but then when you look back, they’re gone.Continue Reading

The Worst Time of Night

The worst time of night for me is at approximately 3:40 AM. For many years, I thought that the experiences I have every night at 3:40 AM were just part of being human, and that everyone went through the same thing. I just thought no one talked about it because it’s terrible and it’s best to just pretend it doesn’t happen. It was only recently that I found out that what I suffer from is an extreme form of sleep paralysis.

I can’t see the clock now, it’s on the bedside table to my right. I don’t need to see it though, because I already know what it says. I know the time, because I’ve just awoken and it’s still very dark outside my window. I will my head to turn anyway, but it refuses to follow my instruction. I feel thirsty, my throat is dry and scratchy. I want to reach over and pick up the small paper cup of water which sits beside my alarm clock. My arm feels impossibly heavy; I feel it straining to move, but I don’t have the strength. My eyes move fine, and I peer around my dark bedroom.

All is still and quiet. My ears do not detect any sounds in the house beyond my bedroom. I try to wiggle my toes, which I can just see at the bottom of my vision, tucked tightly beneath my comforter. I think I see one moving, but only just. Even this feels as if it takes all of the effort I possess. Continue Reading

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