Whisper

March 9, 2009
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“I think there’s someone looking at me through my window.” I say, voice barely above a whisper.


“Are you serious?” she asks, voice skeptical.


“Why I would joke about this?”


“Yeah, who would,” she paused, my words catching up to her. “Dear god! Do you really think someone’s outside? How?”


“There’s this noise at the window that sounds like someone trying to open the screen.”


Of course it does.


“It’s probably just a cat or a ‘coon trying to get in,” she said, brushing off my fear as if it was nothing.

Yes, I’m a cold little creature, wishing to get in.

“I’m scared,” I say, all too calmly.

Why? I won’t hurt you.

“Are you there?” I whisper into my phone. “Hello? Come on! If you-“ I stopped as I heard the front door open. “Are you there?” I whisper into the phone.

No, but I am.

“No one’s here. No body’s ever here. I’m always alone.”

I’m here with you, but it might not be your wish.

I shut my eyes tightly, going over the sentence we learned in Japanese, trying to drown out the pessimist in my mind.

Why learn something you’ll never use?

Switching to lyrics, I let “Whisper” envelop me. This reprieve lasted a short time, for I heard footsteps upon the stairs leading up to where I was. Reaching for my phone once again, I prayed that I had service. Flipping it open, all of my hopes were crushed when nothing lit up.

Oh, how sad: a dead battery.

“God, just kill me now,” I wailed, nerves breaking as I fell into fate’s hand.

Oh, but it’s so much fun, doing this to you.

“Kill you? Why would I do that?” asked a male’s voice as I felt something like cold metal against the back of my neck.

“Will you stop messing with my mind and just kill me?” I was yelling as I turned around to see my killer.

Why not let me play?

“Hey, are you okay?” asked the voice again, this time sickeningly familiar.

“Just let me die,” I softly cried, wishing for this hell to end. Arms moved around me as I prayed to be killed quickly. Lips pressed against mine as my body gave out on itself.

This is not your end.

The next morning I awoke in a room with the burning scent of a hospital. In the chair next to me was my boyfriend, asleep.

“How?” I could say no more as my throat began to burn. I sat up, trying to make sense of why I was in a hospital.

“Oh! Sir, she’s awake now!” said a nurse to a man hidden from my view.

It’s so sad you’re awake.

“You all gave up a scare when the CPR didn’t seem to work,” said the now obvious officer.

“What are you-” I stopped as the burning returned.

“Stop; I’ll explain,” said the officer as I was handed a glass of water.

“There have been a number of house fires in the area that you live in. The arsonist behind it chose your house this time. Your thinking was very clear, I’m guessing, by the fact that you had a phone in your hand and your being on the ground, where the smoke couldn’t get you.”

“If only you knew,” I said darkly. The clueless officer looked to my boyfriend, who was sitting up now, still half asleep. Sighing, I leaned back, sleep wanting to take my body over.

This is my end.





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