The following piece describes a night of storm and the fear that is unknown.
As the mid-night crawled its way, rain droplets began to pour down piercing the chest of the dark grey sky. The pitter-patter sound grew intense and thunder roared a blood-curdling warning. The darkness became darker and darker, each speck of light was devoured by the cloud. The wind wandered restlessly knocking at each window to whisper indications of an impending disaster. The swashing of tree branches deafened the ears further creating a hostile environment. My teeny heart raced ferociously searching for relief; evil forebodings enveloped me completely.
The disturbing noises robbed me of my sleep, still, I kept my eyes tightly shut but all my endeavours to block the gruelling sounds were a sheer waste. Like a horror movie, the room of my bedroom creaked for as long as a million years to open completely. The squeaky blare made by the door froze my voice and I felt that my legs were paralysed. My mind ran amok imagining that a long hand would enter my cover and hold my leg to pull me out of bed and take me to a haunted world. With one flash of strength, I opened my eyes to confront my imaginative devil. My eyes were wide open and it took them some time to adjust to the dark; unfortunately, due to the inclement climate, the electricity supply was cut. Alarmed and alert, my eyes started to scan the room.
With one flicker of wise thought, I picked the lighter kept on the bedside, lit it and scroll my eyes over the huge pile of clothes on my chair, they reflected a faded sheen, though my collection boasts of all bright rainbow shades. They were as I kept them, properly aligned in their folds. Then, I moved my eyes slowly to the old wall-clock that hung on the wall just above the chair. The big, round dial of the clock gaped at me with disdained emotions and the two bold, black needles expressed their dominance like my mother instructing me to sleep; it was 2 am. My focus shifted from there to the curtains of my room; instead of bright blue, they looked grey to me. They were flapping and fluttering in a wild dance as if the wind outside had conjured up the spirit of a dead tribal in them. The stillness of the room was unusual to me. Despite wild noises, the room was filled with deafening silence. The shivers ran down my spine sending strong jitters to my body. I immediately covered myself from head to toe, shut my eyes as hard as I could and tried desperately to return to my sleep.
My body became icy cold, tiny droplets of sweat covered my forehead and upper-lips, a slim streak crawled from my temples till the neck, my underarms were a swishy bog of salty, stinky water. A cold wave of terror kept wriggling me. I wrapped my blanket so tightly over my body that not even an ounce of fresh air could penetrate. My nose could not suffice the amount of oxygen I needed, so I opened my mouth to breathe. My inhalation was so hard that even some droplets of sweat on my upper-lips were sucked in. My throat became dry and parched and those sucked salty water droplets itched it.
“There is someone in my room” my mind kept repeating. My eyes coordinated with my mind but were unable to see who it was other than the vague shapes silhouetted against the dark, cold room.
-Liyana Hussain