Short Story: Who? Me?

This story I wrote when I was strung out on my anti-depressants, not too far after my family and I had our accident. Loosely based on myself, it is a mind game... one of the many that I found myself having constantly. To concur, I was restless, and very drained of any energy, that much of my depression had pretty much pitted me to just end it all, especially since having recurring waking nightmares was a consistent episode. So now, I share one of the many mind games I endured below.

It was a dark and cool night, where the stars blanketed the now tranquil, clear sky. The wind was calm and the air chilled from the rain of earlier. A man stirred within a home set on the middle of a street, restless and parched, he cautiously made his way into the kitchen in the dark. Stopping before the fridge, he rubbed his young green eyes, the fatigue that had set in, and scratched the back of his scalp, his shaggy blonde hair peeping through the cracks of his fingertips.

Man, I'm so tired. I hope they're late picking us up. I've barely had any sleep. The man thought to himself as he let out a yawn.

Reaching into the fridge, the light blinding him temporarily, as he fumbled around to retrieve a bottle of whiskey. His pale hand grasped the bottle marked 'Jack Daniels', slightly grinning to himself as he found his friend he confided in.

The young man heard a creak outside, on what he believed to be the back deck, he chuckled to himself as he was so easily startled, Probably an animal again.

Letting the fridge close by gravity's doing, the young man then walked across the kitchen into the living room, his silhouette stretching his tall figure above the wall and ceiling, proceeding to pick up his empty glass on the oval coffee table, then retreating back into the dark kitchen. Again a creak was hear, however this time it was at the front door.

OK... That's a bit too freaky... hmm.

The man had put his glass and bottle of whiskey down on the kitchen counter top, and walked cautiously to the front window and peered out into the night. Nothing... He saw nothing on the doorstep, nor in view but the street and neighbors lights. Shrugging it off, he went back to the counter where his would be drink last sat waiting...

He poured a glass and began drinking the contents, where he then heard the ominous creaking of the deck again, followed by a window being tapped constantly.

Tap...tap...tap...tap...t-tap..taptaptap...tap...tap...

Now it seemed all to coincidental, What the hell?

He reached for his .44 revolver and hunting knife stored high above in a kitchen cabinet. Slowly he crept to the back door, passing the laundry and bathroom... the path lit only by sporadic nightlights. He approached the back door, cautiously unlocking the door and opening it... Nothing... Nothing but the twilight greeted him. He closed the door and locked it tight, just as he had found it, withdrawing his weapons. Stumbling back through where he had heard the tapping on the window. Pulling back the curtains he again found nothing... Nothing was there, nothing but the night.

I must be really tired.

He smirked, letting out another deep yawn.

He walked through the living room where he checked on his daughter, and then wife... both sleeping soundly. As he went to go check on his daughter again, only to turn a light out, he heard the same haunting sounds... This time he went to the window of his daughter's room and drew back the curtains, to his horror, he found several groups of eyes... peering... gazing... fixated upon him.

He closed the curtains with haste... masking 'whatever' was out there. The tapping evolved into scraping... not only at the windows, but at the doors all over the house, the sound increasingly becoming louder every passing moment. The young man scooped up his slumbering daughter and rushed her to his and his wife's room, urgently waking her and telling her what event is taking place, and to call 911.

As she reached for the telephone and dialed, only static and a mocking laughter could be heard on the other end of the line. She then tried with the cell phone, only to find it the same results, and the laughter whispering...

Nooooo onnnne caaaan saaaave yoooou....noooo--

She dropped the phone as it cackled back at their apparent impending doom, finding themselves alone... trapped. The scraping and tapping became louder... near deafening and more forceful. He feared for his family, for that whatever laid outside waiting and trying to get in would kill them all unmerciful.

If I'm going to die... I'm going to die defending them...

The young man readied his weapons, as he looked back at his horrified wife and still slumbering child, their silhouettes lined by the twilight, “Stay here!”

He made his way to his daughter's window, sliding it open, he slashed wildly and blindly at whatever laid outside.

A loud shriek followed by a thud to the pavement could be heard, as the man shut the window and rushed to the front door. Quickly he unlocked the front door and fired a few shots from his .44 revolver out into the night... screams and pains of agony were heard, the man closed the door and bolted it shut.

After several moments, the scraping and tapping halted... The man mustered the courage to open the door, the horror of his life to what he found upon his doorstep. A familiar silhouette of a man lied beneath him, a shot to the chest and two shots in the head. In his arms... the man cradled a small girl, who apparently had suffered from a epileptic seizure, and a shot in her small head, that penetrated into her fathers heart, both... dead. The young man ran out and checked the side of his house where his daughter's window shared with the driveway, finding another familiar silhouette of a woman dead, slashed ferociously and with a slashed throat. In her hand she cradled a small pebble, bloodied from her own blood. The man panicked at the sight before his eyes and rushed back towards the entrance of his house, where he found a red coupe, the insides torn, battered and smashed to hell.

He stumbled through the darkness back into his home to tell his wife of what he found. He entered his home, and made his way to find his wife and daughter both in a deep sleep.

No... No... No no no no!

His eyes widened, and he collapsed to his knees before his bed, where his wife and daughter laid.

Did... did... did I? No... no... I

He then rushed for his daughters room, and gazed out the misty twilight where the familiar woman laid.

Finding nothingness, he rushed to back to his wife and daughter. He found the door here closed, where as when he left it, it was open from the haste he left it.

It slowly opened as he neared, as shots fired upon him... he collapsed at its door step. Darkness grew around him, as did the cold, soaking him to the marrow and through. As the frigid darkness embraced him, he felt life escape him entirely.

Startling himself awake, he shrugged off the possible nightmare, placing his empty glass down on the table and shuffling himself to the bedroom where his wife and daughter lie, where the door slowly closed behind in suit.

This work is my own, and may not be copied or reproduced in whole or part, with out my consent or authorization.