His Wife To Be

The nails scratched on the wall. Dragging down the wallpaper in the quiet night. Window curtains billowing in the wind as the moonlight slipped between the open frame. Their shadows casting visions of my deepest nightmares. My fingers tucked over the top of the duvet as I clenched them into fists. The tip of my knuckles tuning white as the screeching nails came to a halt. Where’d it go? I thought to myself. The demon had been haunting me. Lurking in every shadow of my house, waiting to taunt me unrelentingly. I feared nightfall; the moon encasing my small house in dimly lit light. Some wall sockets didn't work, they had busted a long time ago. My father never got around to fixing it, and I hadn't been here long enough to invest the time in doing so. But as the nights lingered on, I wish I had. He'd taunt me. Tease me. His form taking hold of my sights in mirrors and shadows in the depths of my room. One night he had taken over my dreams. His laughter echoing in the walls of my brain until I woke, slick with sweat. Tonight was different. He wanted me to know he was here. Earlier that evening, he slammed the bed room door, keeping me inside. Half an hour later, he broke the glass of the window pane. I was terrified. Thank God, I peed, I thought to myself. His haunting laugh echoed in the room as my toes tingled with electricity. My legs reflexively pulled themselves back, shocked at the touch of something my eyes couldn't see. "Stay away," I cried out. My voice came out more like a whimper, which only made him laugh louder. I screwed my eyes shut as the tip of my tongue rolled onto my lips to wet them. "Yes," his voice hissed. My tongue slipped between my lips and into my mouth. I shook my head back and forth before I opened my eyes. The tip of his red nose brushing against mine, his flaming eyes peering into my wide ones. My brows raised as I parted my lips to release a blood curdling scream. The palms of my hands pushed themselves up as I stumbled off the bed. My ass smacked into the wood of the floor, before I stumbled into my feet. As my eyes peered over the mattress, I saw the other side of the wall. My bedroom door creaking open slightly as the curtains came to a sudden halt. I felt my lips quivering as I rose back onto the bed, my feet curled underneath my hips. "Hello?" I called out. Don’t do that, dumb ass. I thought to myself. My hands grabbed hold of the blanket and threw it over my body. My legs straightened out as I lay down and sank into the mattress. I couldn't stop my eyes from dancing across the room. Scanning every suspicious shadow for his face. After half an hour, I knew he wouldn't show. I found myself falling into a deep sleep. The distant sound of his laughter haunting my dreams. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Emmeline," my shift lead called for me. Her stressed voice begging me to help her take care of her tables. She was swamped, and Table Five was milking everything out of her they could. I perked up and grabbed the full pot of coffee. "I got it," I answered. I walked over towards her tables, my white Keds squeaked on the linoleum. After a long rest less night, I managed to only be late for my shift by five minutes. The over night shifts were my favorite, but they did not help my sleep schedule. "Can I refill that mug for ya?" My voice quipped, my heels stopping in front of table three. The disgruntled trucker perked up, his fingers gestured towards the mug with a smile. I offered a smirk before pouring some fresh coffee into his mug. "Anything else for ya?" I asked. The smile still placating my features. He shook his head, and I bid him my goodbyes. I stepped over to a few tables over and stopped. My smile plastered on my face like a dentist's hygiene ad. "Can I refill those mugs for ya?" I asked the rowdy truckers. Their boisterous laughs filled the diner for the last half hour, smacking Matilda's ass like they owned it. They stopped their conversation to glance at me. Their eyes glistening with delight. "Well, you can refill something else of mine?" One of them spoke, the corners of his lips rose to a smirk. "She can refill my mug any time. That little blue dress will be in my dreams tonight," his friend said. My feet shuffled underneath me at the mention of my work uniform. Damn sexist pig, I thought. "Can I refill those mugs of yours?" I asked again, my smile unwavering. The final man knitted his brows, leaning into me with a scowl. "Did you not hear them speaking to you, doll face?" He spat. His beard littered with crumbs of food, making a home where it was welcome. "I did," I replied. "And?" "And what?" I asked, my brows raised. "Well, are you going to say some thin' to them?" He asked. He leaned onto his elbows, his weight putting pressure on the table. "Why should I? I'm here to serve you food and beverages, not supply you and your boys with entertainment." I answered with ease. Truckers like them came into the diner all the time. Rowdy and looking for trouble. But tonight wasn't the night. "I don't think you understand, doll face." He started. "We control your pay," he spat. I scoffed at his audacity, his turned down as he leered at me. "You control one table in an eight hour shift. You don't control my pay, or hers," I said. "Now," I started. My hand gestures the pot of coffee towards them. The liquid sloshed, "would you like me to refill your mugs?" I finished. The men sneered, their eyes turning into slits as they shook their heads. I offered them a small smile, before peering up at the window in front of me. His red eyes blazed into me, burning like never before. The frame of his body caught fire in the reflection of the window. I couldn't help it. The scream fell from my lips. The pot slipped from my fingers and fell into the floor. He’s never shown up here before, I thought to myself.