Cabin Fever

I could hear a man breathing, slow and steady. The sound was enough to stir me from my slumber. I opened my eyes carefully, but my attempts to see were futile.

Unlike in the city, there were no lights to illuminate the night around my vacation home. It was a gloomy night, and the woods could be so dark. The sharp objects that had filled my sight in the day were replaced now by ominous figures that blended into the darkness.

Another sound to my right. What is it? Who is it? There can’t be anyone out there; there can’t be anyone in here. It is impossible.

I was choking on fear, and I could only imagine how blue my face had become. My brain couldn’t compute this silence, and I was left with a ringing in my ears. Without any reference to time, I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours.

My body tingled, and curiosity called me to action. Slowly I slipped a foot off the bed and searched for the floor. It was colder than I expected. The bed creaked and the floor cracked as my body stiffened from the shock. All was lost now – he was aware of my consciousness.

I had no choice but to thrust my body out of bed. I could hear him react with lightning speed through the house. Was he running? No, he was going to finish the job.

I ran across the room, or at least I attempted to. There isn’t a whole lot of successful running in the dark. I bruised my legs on the furniture, and I scraped my chest on the mantle. Even in the absence of light, there was no mistaking the blood that now ran down my torso.

I had to keep going. What had tormented me as a child was now here. It would be different this time though. The sounds were so close, I could feel him. I had to do something before he did. It was time to act.

I reached for the fire poker. I didn’t even think about what I did next. I had trained myself – I was prepared. There was a satisfying thud, and I knew it was over. I dropped the poker, and found the light switch that had previously eluded me. I needed to see what I had accomplished, whom I had defeated. But with the flick of the switch, I could see no reason to celebrate … only a broken mirror, and my own bloody reflection.