I SAW IT WITH THE LIGHTS ON

I finally saw it with the lights on!

A whole muggy summer flew by and two nights a week,

I felt the presence of the dark thing standing at my door.

Tonight was different.

 

I heard the scatter of something that sounded like a mouse rustling through my trash.

It was completely dark. Around 2AM. My nightlight had gone out.

The scattering sounds turned into chattering like cold teeth. But it was blistering August hot.

The air from my open window was still.

And I felt something smiling at me.

It’s here.

I could hear the lips parting, sliding past black fangs.

 

In less than a breath, I put my plan into motion.

Pull blanket from right shoulder side.

Grab Dad’s hatchet under pillow.

Flick on power strip.

Yes! The desk lamps turn on!

 

And there it was,

worse than I could have imagined.

The hatchet nearly slipped from my sweaty hands.

My plan had worked. But now, victory was just terror in lamplight.

Large glistening hands crept over its face and it pretended to sob—

the fake mean crying made my ears ring.

The floor creaked as it rocked back and forth.

It was all a badly played joke that made me freeze.

It reached deep into its cold belly and pulled out a wiggling person the size of a doll.

It looked like my school’s guidance counselor. Steam rolled off his contorted body.

The small person screamed and the thing smiled, squeezing the person in its hand.

It looked wrong in the light. Things like this were meant to live in the dark.

It started crying again. Still holding the smaller thing.

The lamp flickered. I thought it was over.

I wanted to make it stop. But my arms and legs felt cold. The hatchet fell and bounced on the mattress.

The sharpened camping hatchet twirled and the blade bobbed right into the flesh of my left foot.

 

I screamed.

I fell to the bed, the hatchet staying with me.

My eyes were closed and I heard the stomping. ONE, TWO, THREE.

It was breathing on me. It sniffed. It laughed. The little one cooed.

I opened my eyes.

The doorway was empty. The things, whatever they were, was gone.

My wide-eyed brother burst in, unable to speak.

My parents followed, outraged and scared.

 

4AM. The ER is air conditioner cold and smells like death lathered over with lavender potpourri.

My parents are confused, to say the least. My brother is sleepy. The bill will be expensive, especially “in this economy”.

All in all, a really bad plan.

But I saw it with the lights on—

and that’ll do for now…

 

END.


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WICKER HILLS