The Dead Hour

People talk about the things that go “bump” in the night as if they don’t exist. The scary fairytales that we all know are fantasy, non-existent, inconsequential even; they are used to scare children into cleaning their rooms and provide movie dates where you can hold the girl you like real close when the jump scenes appear on the screen. Halloween is just a holiday; Freddy Krueger is just a character; Sleepy Hollow is just a town; Annabelle is just a doll. We can sleep at night with the lights off and the windows open because we know these things. I used to believe that as well. I wish I could go back in time and once again become ignorant to the truth. Unfortunately, I can never go back. I now wake up in the middle of the night with the sheets soaked with my sweat, my heart nearly bursting out of my chest, my throat dry from screaming, and my fingers numb from squeezing the pillow next to me. I am afraid, I am scared, I am terrified. I can no longer walk down the street without looking over my shoulder or sleep in a room with the lights off. I will tell you of the night that has changed my life and I hope and I pray that whomever reads this will never have to experience the true horrors of the world as I have. There are dangers that hide in the dark and lie beneath our shadows, they are right in front of our eyes and sleep comfortably underneath our beds. I will tell you of the night I discovered pure unadulterated fear.

It was a Friday night, no different from any other. I was in my room at college that was conveniently placed behind door number 13. Did I feel an occasional bitter breeze and wake up from a particularly bone chilling nightmare at times? Maybe. But in no way did I feel that an omen of any sort because as I have stated, 13 was just a number. I opted out of going to one of the infamous basement parties on campus and instead, decided to take my books on a trip to the tech center. As I watched my college mates parade out of the dorms all around campus, I felt that occasional breeze. I picked up my books to leave and I looked over my shoulder because although I was alone, someo… something was watching me. As quick as that unnerving feeling came upon me it left me even faster and I was out the door. For whatever reason I was in a great mood; the sky was littered with stars, and the full moon was perfectly placed among them. I took my habitual stroll through the tree lined pathway that served as a bridge between the dorms and classrooms. It always appeared to be a scene from a Dickins novel and although it wasn’t getting any warmer outside I stopped to look at my favorite tree, a pear tree. The entire structure was perfectly symmetrical and I never dared to pick a pear off of its branches with the fear I would damage its beauty. I caught myself remembering the first time I kissed my boyfriend underneath it on a night more beautiful than this one. I smiled with butterflies flooding my stomach as all of the emotions came flooding back and thanked the tree for being apart of a memory I would never forget.

I reached the front of the 8 foot glass doors of my second home, I felt that breeze again but brushed it off as the April chill and proceeded to walk into the building. I hummed the catchy song “Heaven is a place on earth” as I greeted the overweight, lovable security guard Hank and caught the elevator to the third floor. As I stepped off, I no longer felt like humming and my excited pace slowed down to me barely putting one foot in front of the other. I walked to “my” section and found that there was someo…something sitting in my favorite seat. He had his head down and appeared to be taking notes out of a textbook. There is nothing strange about someone studying in the Tech Center but the moment I saw him I was terrified. My mouth dried up and my muscles started to shake. Every possible hair on my body stood up. Who was this person and why was I so afraid? I looked around the empty building hoping and praying that someone else was there but it was completely deserted. I took a step back and as if he were reading my mind he looked up and showed me the most beautiful smile. Instantly, a voice so small and calm in my mind said a word but I became distracted. His eyes looked as if the ocean lived in them and there was not one blemish, scar, or freckle on his skin. His jaw was perfectly sculpted and his eyelashes were long and full. There was not one hair out of place atop his perfect black hair. I tried again to take a step back but my body would not move and as his eyes stared into mine, I felt that on this beautiful spring day I would die. The voice in my head again said…

“Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen the devil himself” Hank says next to me. The statue of David was no longer sitting in front of me.

“Hank, is there anyone else in the tech center?” I knew the answer.

“The only person that comes in here on a Friday night is you, are you sure you’re ok?” No, I was not ok.

“Yes, I’m fine, especially with you here”

“Well, ok, I am going to finish my rounds, if ya need me just give me a holler. This place has a crazy echo when its empty like this”.

Empty. I didn’t think Hank and I were the only people present. That breeze came again but this time it left a lingering odor. I assumed that the putrescence was what death must smell like. The feeling of someo…something staring at me interrupted my train of thought and the heat of it was beginning to become unbearable. That voice in my head finally became clear, “run” it said.

There was a “dead” hour on campus during the weekends. After everyone leaves the parties and gets home the streets seem too quite. The street lights are dimmer, the air is thicker, one’s footsteps are the only sounds left to be heard. I left the tech center feeling that the fear in my heart would consume me. The rational part of my brain was telling me that I was just tired, studying for midterms had drained me, and I needed rest; but my soul knew differently. I was in extreme danger and there would be no building or door that could protect me. The air all around me became palpable, the stars were no longer in the sky and the moon no longer shined, it became dull and surrounded. I took off in a run but stopped at the Dickens’ scene that had somehow turned into one of Edgar Allen Poe’s most famous poems. My favorite pear tree was now bare and lifeless, the fruit had become rotten and was surrounded with flies and filled with maggots. A tear spilled from my eye as I realized that this was the same tree where the love of my life also crushed my heart and left me on this dead hour, dead. There was a moment of complete stillness. Everything stopped moving as if God himself pressed the pause button on the world. As much as I wanted to keep running, I couldn’t. Someo…something was not only staring at me but it was also behind me. I held my breath and turned around and there it was. Its blue eyes were now filled with flames and beneath them was a hate so strong I forgot what love ever was. It took its cold hand and wiped my tear away and kissed me with a smile on its lips. I tried to push away as it planted memories of every disaster it brewed, every war it orchestrated, every drop of blood it reveled in. I screamed in agony as my body felt as if it was being burned alive and every bone in my body was being broken, slowly. I wished for the sweet release of death but instead I was forced to re-live every hurtful memory, every heart shattering moment that I put in a deep vault never to be opened again. My throat felt as if were blistering from the screams I tried to let escape and the heat that was scorching me. I do not remember how long this lasted until it finally released me and left me underneath my pear tree on that dead hour, dead.

Scientifically, I am alive and breathing. I still walk, talk, and pretend to laugh at social gatherings. But that beautiful thing that wrapped me in its embrace and showed me the true sorrows of the world and all the carnage within the façade has taken all the joy and bliss of everyday life away from me. It showed me that those things that we see as just a movie or a book actually exist. One day I will lock all of the horrors away in that place that we all have in the back of our minds and sleep once again with the lights out. But that day is not today.