I hate Toby.
As a creeping sense of dread washes over me, I pray for sunlight. For safety. For the presence I now sense in the corner of my room to just LEAVE ME ALONE.
I’d hoped I would grow out of this, but here I am, in a dark room, at… three o’clock in the morning, listening to the soft breaths of my wife. And all I can wonder is if he’s going to kill me this time.
I crack my eyes open. Nothing. It’s a relief, certainly. Sometimes he’s right in front of me, staring. Scares me witless, switching my whole body into overdrive. My heart is pounding right now. I start as I feel something brush my leg, but my body doesn’t move.
I’m paralyzed.
The panic really sets in now. These ones are always the worst. It might not even be Toby this time. When I’m frozen all kinds of things show up. My heartbeat feels like a jackhammer, I hear it thumping in my eardrums. Slowly, I start to scan what little of the room I can see. Dresser.. TV.. Coat rack.. mirror..
I don’t have a mirror in my room. I still can’t move, but I swear… I swear I can see something amorphous moving in the mirror. Something moving closer and closer to me. The dread rises in me as my eyes lock to it. It knows I can’t see it.
I don’t have a mirror in my room. I don’t, I don’t, I don’t..
It’s getting closer.. oh no no no no no… I want to move, to reach for the light switch, to be anywhere but here, to scream, to wake up my wife, anything, just let this stop!
I see fingers reach out of the mirror. They grab the frame, gripping it, and then that.. that THING pulls itself through. I want to close my eyes, but I can’t look away. I can’t see it well enough for it to matter either way.
The floor creaks. Slow, wet footsteps make their way behind me. I can’t hear a third set of breaths behind me. The jackhammer screams violently in my skull.
The screaming starts.
It takes me a moment to realize I’m the one doing it. Somehow I’ve hit the light switch, thrown my covers off, leapt out of bed, and grabbed for my pistol. My wife is screaming too, telling me it’s ok, it was just a bad dream, even as I sweep the room. Dresser.. TV.. Coat rack.. mirror..
No mirror.
No monster.
Toby is gone.
The sun is rising.
