Just Another Normal Night

I sat up in bed with a start. The boom had come from below me, but all was quiet now. I pulled the blanket up to my chin and looked at the floor. The sleeping bag was crumpled and empty. Where had she gone now?

I pushed the blanket back and swung my feet to the floor. My hands ran impatiently over my face as I began to rise from the mattress. Leaving the warmth to search the house for my sleepwalking best friend, I moved toward the light switch.

It wasn’t working.

Ramped up on horror movies, my young brain went into overdrive. What if the power had been cut? What if it’s a murderer downstairs? What if he gets me next??

I shook my head out of my sleep fog. Don’t be silly, I thought. Your parents are here; you’re safe, you’re at home. Just go find her.

I had become a pro at searching dark houses for her. She always followed the same routine. She would rise, go into the bathroom, shut the door, come out again, and go back to bed. This repeated whether she was at her house or mine; spending equal time at both meant she had both memorized. My parents had had to install bolts on the outside doors when she first began sleeping over, in case she got lost looking for the bathroom, but they were long gone.

I walked into the hallway, ignoring the light switch. There was another “bump” below me. I wondered what was happening. She didn’t usually get so lost; she rarely bumped into things like this. Was it really her downstairs? I wasn’t sure, but I had to find out.

I stood at the top of the enclosed staircase, peering down. No light came up the stairs to greet me. The bottom of the stairs led to the foyer, which led to a solid wooden door. I could barely see my feet as I urged them down each step.

I wondered if I should have a weapon with me. I thought about the bat I kept in my room, and the flashlight on my cell phone. I wish I had grabbed one of them. Instead, I kept walking down the stairs. Each step was more frightening than the last, and I wanted this to be done.

The darkness was pushing down on my shoulders, making my footfalls louder than necessary. It pressed against my back, clawing me with its nails. Its fingers were on my skin, forcing the small hairs to stand up. I pressed a hand against the wall to steady myself, but that didn’t stop the darkness from pulsating against my chest. My heart beat louder, and after the third bang, I screamed.

I heard feet shuffling to the left of the staircase. She must be in the kitchen, I thought. Good. I can grab her quickly. I won’t have to look too hard. I paused, part of me too scared to keep going, as I heard her feet getting closer to me. She was going to walk to the steps, probably on her way back to bed, so I inched my way closer to the bottom of the stairs. I wondered why she was bumping into things; what if she were hurt?

I stood on the bottom step as she shuffled near. I could feel her more than I could see her. I reached for her arm and grabbed it, carefully guiding her toward the steps. I moved my hands down both her arms as she moved onto the step next to me. Her arms didn’t feel harmed. I slid my hands up to her shoulders, realizing she felt different.

I stopped, holding my hands on her shoulders. What was it? What was wrong? She felt ok, but she seemed... wrong. I whispered her name. No response. I took one hand off her shoulder and reached for her cheek. I touched nothing. I thought I hadn’t reached far enough to touch her in the dark, so I moved my other hand up her shoulder. To her neck. Which was gone. I pressed both hands into the place where her head should be, and I found nothing. Just a bloody stump, where her neck once was.