In The Room

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               I woke with a start. I immediately knew there was something wrong. I could feel it in my bones and the goosebumps making their swift way across the expanse of my skin. I knew there was someone in my room. I didn’t know where this person was or who it could possibly be, but I knew there was someone there. Too afraid to make my consciousness known, I tried to steady my breathing as though I had only shifted in my sleep. I also turned onto my back to uphold this illusion.


               As soon as I actually shifted, I knew my mistake was made. I could see the figure of a woman standing at the foot of my bed. I hadn’t been able to see her before because of the positioning; she was now outlined by the window. She appeared to have hair that was piled on top of her head in a bun and her shoulders were shuddering.


               “She has to know I’m awake. She has to know,” I thought to myself. Her head, which had previously been facing towards the wall, now snapped in my direction as if she had heard me thinking. Her shoulders continued shaking and I could hear her ragged breathing. I felt my own breath quicken alongside my pulse. There was no way the woman would not be able to tell I was awake now. I heard her shift her feet on the carpet. Her breath sped up rapidly and she sounded like she might cry out.


               Before I could ask her if she was alright or, better yet, what the hell she was doing in my room, she lunged for me. Her spindly fingers reached for my throat and I reached to stop her in any way I could. I kicked out with my legs to no avail as she was already crushing my windpipe under her thumbs. I hadn’t even had time to scream or alert anyone to my distress. I suddenly knew…


               I was going to die.


               And there was no one who could stop that from happening.


               Not even me…


               I looked into the face of the woman and saw her wild, bloodshot eyes sunk deep inside her head. Her wrinkled skin was pulled taught over her skull. Her nose was unnaturally large and hooked. Her lips were curled into a sinister grin as she choked the air from my lungs. Her eyes grew wider and more unhinged and her grin morphed into a crazed, laughing smile; as if she knew my end was swiftly approaching.


               My vision began to go dark about the edges and I wished I could tell my mom I loved her. My hands lost their grip on her wrists and fell limp onto the bed. I vaguely heard a low laugh coming from somewhere in the room. My oxygen starved brain took its time realizing that the woman squeezing the life from me was laughing maniacally. My vision tunneled faster and faster until I could hardly see anything at all. The last thing I knew before I died was she was screaming at me; her eyes bulging wide, her mouth contorted with rage. Her voice was filled to the brim with fury and her fingers burned my skin as she ripped my life from my throat.

Created: Aug 12, 2012

Tags: short story, tiny horror stories

Sarara Document Media