FLASHES OF FEAR
596 Words
The walls felt like they were vibrating.
That was the first thing I noticed before I even opened my eyes.
It was like the room was alive, breathing with me. Or against me. For a second, I didn’t know if I was awake or trapped in another nightmare. But everything felt too real.
Then the smell hit me.
Rain-soaked earth. Wet leaves. Smoke.
And then
A scream.
A woman’s scream. Sharp. Terrified.
I shot up in bed, gasping. My chest rose and fell like a beating drum. I grabbed my throat, trying to ground myself. I was in my room. Safe. Supposedly.
The smell faded. The scream vanished. Silence again.
Was it just a dream? Or something I had actually lived through?
I couldn’t tell anymore.
But I remembered the feeling. Damp earth under my feet. Smoke clinging to my skin. The terror.
I pushed the blanket off and rushed to the bathroom. My hands trembled as I opened the cabinet.The pill i had kept was still there.
I had only taken one by mistake.
Still, fear gripped me.
What if those pills were doing something to my mind? What if they were meant to keep me from remembering?
This place didn’t feel like home.
It felt like a cage.
My fingers brushed against something in my robe pocket. The recorder.
I’d found it tucked away in the study, almost like someone meant to forget it. I hadn’t mean to use it. But now… now it felt like my only chance at the truth.
I hit play.
Static.
Then
Footsteps. Dishes clinking.
And voices.
“She’s not ready yet,” a woman whispered.
A pause. Then a man’s voice, low and firm:
“If she remembers too quickly…”
The recording ended.
I stood frozen, the recorder still in my hand.
Not ready for what?
Why did it matter how fast I remembered?
They were hiding something. That much was clear.
I quietly put the recorder back and crept out of my room. The hallway was dim, and the old grandfather clock ticked softly. 5:00 a.m.
Everyone was asleep.
Good. I needed to clear my head before I lost my mind.
I threw on dark leggings and a fitted sports bra. Then I slipped out the door and stepped into the cold morning air.
No guards. No staff.
Just me.
The air felt sharp and clean, waking up my senses. I started to jog, my footsteps soft against the stone path.
But my mind raced faster than my legs.
The nightmare.
The voices.
The way they talked about me like I was some broken thing they needed to manage.
And then
Footsteps behind me.
I stopped. Turned.
Mr. Black.
Of course.
He was just a few steps away, jogging slowly like he’d been watching me the whole time.
“Are you stalking me now?” I asked, out of breath.
“Just making sure you won’t run off again,” he said, cool as ever.
My stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “You tried to escape once. Don’t worry. You’ll remember it soon.”
Then he jogged past me, leaving me frozen in place.
Escape?
I never remembered trying to leave.
But something in his voice said it wasn’t a lie.
Still, deep down, I knew
I wasn’t the villain here.
Even without my memories, I could feel it.
This house. These people. Mr. Black.
They were hiding something. Something twisted.
I wouldn’t let them win.
Not now. Not ever.
It was time to play smart.
And finally break free.
- Writer
