Shaken.
1221 Words
Aria slammed the door behind her with a force that echoed through the small apartment. She sank against it, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps, the shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding finally escaping into the stale air.
Her heart pounded fiercely, hammering against her ribs like a frantic drumbeat that refused to quiet. Every step she’d taken on the way home felt like dragging her own body through mud, miles stretching past her feet with agonizing slowness. And now, even inside the safety of her room, the alley wasn’t gone; the shadows clung to the walls, the cold presence of the man she’d seen pressed in on her, unrelenting.
She kicked off her shoes and wiped trembling hands down her face, as if that could erase the vivid, haunting images etched into her mind. The guttural groan .... raw and desperate .....echoed louder than it should, twisting her stomach into knots. She could still see the cold precision in the killer’s movements, the way every motion was exact, rehearsed, inevitable. He didn’t just kill; he was a predator moving with the calm certainty of a machine.
And she was the unwilling witness.
Shivers racked her body as the weight of it all crashed down. She peeled off her coat and dropped her bag by the door without a sound, every movement slow and robotic. The bathroom door felt like a barrier she desperately needed to cross ....hot water, she convinced herself, would purge the horror from her skin. She stepped under the spray and gasped as the scorching water hit her chilled flesh, the sting a sharp relief from the icy grip inside her chest. Steam blurred the mirror, and droplets clung to the edges of the glass like brittle tears.
She pressed her palms to her face, water drenching her hair, dragging it down in drenched strands that stuck to her cheeks and neck. She scrubbed as if the water could wash the nightmare away: the pitched groan, the muffled scream swallowed by the shadows, the knife sinking in.
But the water ran clean over porcelain skin; the memory stayed thick and heavy inside. The images weren’t on her body.....they were inside her.
Her hands trembled uncontrollably now, claws digging into her face in desperation. Her chest heaved, lungs struggling to catch up with the pounding inside her. The water’s steady roar filled the silence, a lonely anthem for what she wished she could undo. She closed her eyes, letting the hot spray scald her skin, hoping the ritual would somehow numb the pain lodged deep within her.
Time blurred. Minutes passed, or maybe hours; she couldn’t tell.
Eventually, the tremors subsided with labored breaths, the jagged edges of panic softening just enough that her frayed mind could thread together scattered thoughts.
When she finally stepped out, the room seemed impossibly cold without the steam, air biting at her skin. She wrapped herself tightly in an oversized towel and sank onto the edge of her bed, every muscle aching with exhaustion. Dinner was called in the distance, a routine she barely registered. Her body was still trembling, but she remained motionless....too hollow to move, too drained to protest.
This was unlike her. Skipping meals, ignoring family....it was out of character, but the invisible weight pressing on her chest made everything seem distant, surreal. The room felt smaller now, the bed too soft, the blankets too light to bear the crushing heaviness in her heart. The silence screamed louder than any noise, filled with the echo of footsteps that weren’t there and the cold touch of the man she’d seen.
A sharp knock at the door pulled her from the void. Her mother’s gentle voice floated in, a thin thread of comfort in the darkness. “Aria? Dinner’s ready… Are you okay, sweetheart?”
Aria tightened the covers around her like a shield and shook her head faintly. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me,” her mother answered softly, voice laced with tired concern. “You’ve been jumpy all evening. What happened?”
The words hung between them like brittle glass. Aria swallowed hard, lips pressed thin. She didn’t dare tell the truth....not tonight, not ever. Instead, she forced a fragile smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing, really. Just tired, I guess. What od dad?....will he be home tonight?”
Her mother’s silence was louder than words, stretched too long to be ignored. Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “He won’t be coming home. Not tonight.”
A twist like a knife plunged into Aria’s stomach, but she nodded with the practiced calm of someone who had learned to armor herself. Nights like this were nothing new....her father vanishing into the shadows, sleepless nights and empty spaces filled with unknown dangers. It was a routine carved by neglect and distance, and she had learned to survive it alone. She was an only child by circumstance, shaped by resilience and necessity.
Her mother lingered at the door, worry written in every crease on her tired face. “Just… be careful, okay? Don’t stay up too late.”
“I will,” Aria muttered, voice thinner than she realized.
The door closed softly, sealing her into silence once more. She buried herself deeper beneath the covers, but the quiet was suffocating.....thick with the relentless pounding of her heart, the memory of the alley, the scream, the knife. And worse, the gnawing awareness that something unseen, something watching, still lurked beyond the walls of her safe room.
Sleep dragged itself over her like a reluctant tide, slow and hesitant. It wasn’t an escape; it was a slow surrender. She felt herself slipping into dreams soaked with fear....and the nightmare came swiftly.
She was running.
Darkness pressed in on every side, the alley slick under her pounding feet, moisture curling around her ankles like ghosts. Panic surged through her veins like poison, sharp and hot. Behind her, footsteps followed....heavy, unyielding, unstoppable.
She dared not look back.
The shadow behind her pursued silently with terrifying closeness. She could feel its breath on her neck, cold and deliberate. Her legs burned beneath her, lungs gasping. The fear carved a path through her mind, suffocating, unrelenting.
Ahead stretched the alley, endless and twisting, a tunnel swallowing every flicker of light and hope. The world contracted into shadows and footsteps and breath.
Her foot caught, and she stumbled....hands scraping against the slick pavement, breath strangled in her throat. Desperation prickled her skin.
The face of her pursuer remained hidden in the gloom: faceless yet threatening. Every instinct screamed she knew that figure....had seen him before....but the memory cloaked itself in mist, teasing and unreachable.
She pushed herself to run again, chest heaving wildly, lungs burning, heart threatening to burst through her ribs. The alley wound on, unfamiliar and endless, the faceless shadow in relentless pursuit.
And then… she awoke.
Cold sheets clung to her sweating skin, hair damp and tangled, heart hammering with frantic urgency. She swallowed a gag of air, trembling as the nightmare’s heavy weight crowded in her chest.
She buried her face in the pillow, willing the terror to recede, whispering to herself that it was just a dream.
But deep inside, she knew.
Something in the dark was still out there
- Writer
