Caitlin Cole

No Sunshine

I woke up shaking in the deepest part of the night. The ugly feeling of fear gripped my stomach. It wasn’t a nightmare; I had actually been having a pleasant dream. Something in my room, in this empty house woke me. Like the sound of thunder it vibrated into my ears and wrenched me from sleep.

My eyes strained to see through the darkness. The streetlamp outside my window cast an eerie half-light through my closed blinds. This horrible light turned even the most familiar forms, like the lamp on my desk, into something sinister. The strange shadows grew and spread like a dark fire until I started to fear what my eyes told me was there instead of believing in what I knew was there.

So I sat paralyzed by the tricks my mind played on me until, I heard another monstrous sound. This time I located the source to be somewhere above my head. A quick glance proved that it came not from the ceiling directly overhead but above that, perhaps on the roof. I tilted my head back to gaze upwards at the white plaster, holding my breath and waiting again for a sound. Nothing. Maybe it was my imagination. But there was not a whisper of a cloud outside so it couldn’t have been actual thunder.

After ten agonizing minutes of ear-straining silence passed uneventfully, I let out a relieved sigh. Settling back into the comfortable fold of my sheets I closed my eyes and allowed the tendrils of sleep to repossess my conscience.

Just as I began to drift back into dreamland the sound returned, louder. My eyes flew open and I stared wide-eyed at my door. That time I heard it closer, felt the floor tremble beneath me. It sounded as if it came from just down the hall. Seconds later it shook my room again. This time so much closer, like whatever the noise came from was waiting on the other side of my door.

I felt my heart beating ferociously, pounding in my head with a reckless frequency. My door knob turned slowly and the door cracked open. A thousand needles pricked the base of my neck and I shivered under the trailing of icy fingers down my arms. The stench of decay ambushed my senses, like that of meat left out in the sun for too long.

Now a suffocating silence settled, broken only by my raspy inhales as I waited. And waited. Nothing happened. Gathering what little courage remained I stepped out of my bed as quietly as possible. A violent sense of vulnerability latched onto my mind and I wanted nothing more to jump back under the covers, close my eyes and just pray that whatever it was went away.

But I wouldn’t do that. I would not run away or hide. I searched frantically in the dark room for any type of protection until finally my hands landed on my Wilson H4 Hammer tennis racket. Brandishing it like a baseball bat, I cautiously approached the door. I stretched out my hand to grab the knob but stopped short when I noticed the way my fingers were shaking. My whole body trembled uncontrollably. I closed my eyes to gather my courage and before my resolve dissolved, I thrust open the door into the dark hallway.

I saw nothing. Well I saw the hall table, the open bathroom door and the wooden railing of the stairs, but nothing out of the ordinary. I took two steps out of my room and took a better look around. Still nothing. I lowered my weapon and listened. The moon cast a stronger light in this part of the house through the skylight windows. Now the forms of my couch appeared bluer and distorted but nothing was out of place.

The wooden boards moaned softly beneath my bare feet as I crossed the small gap from my door to the railing. I carefully turned my head to look down the stairs but saw nothing. I began to move towards the bathroom when suddenly a crash echoed up from the ground floor. It sounded like a glass falling, almost an innocent sound if I didn’t believe I existed as the sole occupant of the house.

Still, this tinkling of glass sounded far less intimidating then the unexplainable thunder from before. Humans move items, are clumsy and make noise. They don’t create colossal disturbances strong enough to send vibrations crashing through a room. I felt braver facing a mortal entity.

With racket still raised, I slowly descended the stairs, wincing at every creak that escaped from the wood beneath. I reached the bottom and stood with my back pressed flat against the grandfather clock. Around the corner to my left the kitchen sat silently. Other then the entrance I stood before, only the side door leading to the backyard provided an exit. I had been watching this entrance the entire journey down the stairs, so the noise maker could not have escaped through here.

Years before when the temperature dropped to an unbearable cold I paint sealed the side door shut. It let in an awful draft. I never felt the urge to use it, so it remained impenetrable. Meaning, the source of my terror still resided in the kitchen, there was no other exit.

The stench dissipated long before I reached the doorframe. Again my breathing broke the heavy silence and I tightened my grip on the racket. In my head I counted down. Three…two…one! And I jumped around the corner and into the kitchen. My eyes searched frantically for the intruder.

I saw no one. I wondered if perhaps they hid under the kitchen table. So I bent far over, touching my hands to the floor, but under the table I only saw a forest of wooden legs. I stood alone in the room.

I concluded that it was my imagination, after all the noise stopped and I hadn’t found any other disturbances. I silently took out a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the sink. I drank only a few sips before washing the rest down the drain. I decided it was time to return upstairs. No one was in the house. Nothing was wrong. I was just being paranoid.

I carried my racket loosely by my thigh as I exited the kitchen. I placed one foot on the stairs when suddenly the clock behind me began its wail. I was so startled by the chimes ringing right behind me I couldn’t stop the screech that escaped my throat.

And that was when I heard it, this sickening laughter. Morphing the gay action in to something nefarious, it mocked me for my fear. Underneath each toll of a chime, deep guttural laughter, heartless and menacing resounded into my ear. I felt it right behind me; I felt the wind from the intake of air as they laughed.

The racket clattered to the floor. I couldn’t see anything, but it was in my head scratching at my sanity. Grinding through my mind this laughter seared my brain, making me feel physical pain. I smashed my hands over my ears to dampen the noise but it slipped in the cracks of my fingers with a sound that burned like fire.

I had to get away. I ran upstairs and the laughter slowly faded away, but as soon as my left foot landed on the second floor awning a thunderous boom shook the stairs beneath me and I fell. Tumbled back down and landed sprawled at the foot of the clock.

My crumpled body began to pick itself up; however, when I put pressure on my joints white flashed before my eyes and I collapsed with a whimper. Pain like strikes of lightening coursed up and down my frame. My vision started to fade and soon I found I couldn’t breathe. My lungs desperate for air shriveled under the pressure of my ribs. I felt consciousness slipping out of my grasp. It was my fate to fall prey to my tormentors. I felt their presence closing in on me. I could no longer cry out. Realizing there was no escape, I succumbed to them.

“Goood morning! It’s the start of a wonderful day with the sun shining brightly and an expected high of 65 degrees thro-“ My hand instinctively slapped the off button on my alarm radio. I cautiously blinked open my eyes. The clock read 7:13. I had forgotten to set it forward for day light savings. I was an hour late.

Without stopping to think I scrambled out of bed and readied myself for the office. I skipped breakfast and left the house fifteen minutes later. As I pulled out of the driveway I couldn’t shake the notion that my house was watching me. I quickly dismissed the thought and signaled out into the next street. I looked out my window and scoffed at the foolish radio announcer. Dark ominous clouds blanketed the sky, without allowing a glimpse of the promised sunshine. I don’t know why I shuddered at the thought of thunder.