SCARED STIFF

I wonder why the dark was invented/created? For the cats and other nocturnal animals to be happy perhaps? I can’t see the colour of the sky, but already I am beginning to get sick of the black streets outside my window. Reminds me of something.

 The wind is howling like an angry  monster. Roaring through the ink, cover which suffocates our part of the world. Tiny glimpses of lights kindly given from our stars and the moonlight, torch our moving clouds, as though to push away the heavy nights to make way for the spring, which will follow the winter.

Walking down an alley way, silence in front of me but behind, a tin can,  can be heard, rattling rolling, then stopping, as though a foot has covered it, not to cause  unnecessary attention towards the shadow which seems to be following me. I walk quicker, the tunnel of emptiness, strangles me with a carpet dull tone. Punching me in the face. If I turn around, I will run into the evil who is waiting for the right moment to pounce on me. I don’t want to look at him, I don’t want to see who is there. To look into the evil, ice,  eyes, which will be full of anger and  hatred. Perhaps red with madness? I  don’t want to be caught. What will he have in his hand? How will I meet my end?

Keep walking forward, into an invisible wall. Finding out there is nowhere to go, no place I can run get out, get away? Or turn, turn to face my destiny.

I’m walking faster now, not a sound can be heard as yet, just my heart. Pounding, beating almost ready to explode.

My mouth is dry, I can’t  scream, my lips are stuck together. My tongue is almost choking me. I can’t do anything to remove it from the roof of my mouth. I no longer have any saliva to swallow. I can hardly breathe. My body is slowing down, my legs are moving, an yet I am paralysed. I am not moving or going, anywhere

   I have never been so terrified in my life. This fear is beyond terror. Beyond what my body can cope with.

A  silver glow can be seen in front of me. It is like dust.

It is the reflection from the crescent moon.

It’s coming closer to me, I can see now. But then a huge finger like  shape comes  down on me. Sweeping across my face. A tree branch. Oh, my God.  There it is. Oh my word? Please God, just let me be alright?

It’s just a  dozen steps away from me. What do I do? Help me? Please?

Now, that is it, my front door. My Husband is standing there waiting for me, watching for my arrival. I safely walk up the garden path, look over my shoulder and there it is, the can, rolling in the wind, getting stuck in anything and everything, nothing follows it.

All in my mind.