The Haze
4
Call me if you start freaking out again. I don’t care if it’s six AM my time. Promise?
Okay, okay.
Not like I could bring myself to do that. It would be unfair.
I’m not nearly as afraid, anyway. It can’t possibly do anything else to me, can it?
I tell myself that as I turn the lights off once again. For the first time since that nightmare four days ago, I’m not hyperventilating or panicking about trying to go to sleep. I feel normal. Safe, even.
There’s an episode of Doctor Who called Blink.
It’s about these assassins that turn into angel statues whenever a living thing is looking at them, but when they’re not being looked at, they move insanely fast and kill their victims.
“Don’t turn your back, don’t look away, and don’t blink. Blink and you’re dead.”
It’s the Doctor’s warning, the final ominous statement of the episode as dozens of statues flash by on the screen.
All the lights are out now, and I feel as ready as I can. This time I stare at the Haze’s usual hiding spot intently, studying it for any sign of movement. Countless images of what could happen fill my mind, from the dark cloud swallowing my room entirely to random things crawling out of the walls to attack me. Still, I’m not afraid because, usually, I can recognize the difference between reality and my imagination. Usually.
The floor gives and creaks just slightly enough that something could be walking on it, but I ignore it. It’s just in my mind. Shadows pooled on the ceiling crawl along the walls, stopping at the mirror on one wall and the window on another. I stare at the huge rectangle of black above the window. It doesn’t move, naturally. Has it always been there and I’m just noticing it now, or is it like those things, those stone angels, and it’s careful to move only when I’m not looking?
A cold breeze brushes past my face. I feel a light pressure fall across my entire body like a blanket, but nothing else. First I think that maybe it’s given up, that maybe this Haze will realize I’m not scared and just leave me alone already.
Then a thought jumps into my mind that scares me almost as much as the nightmare from days ago.
It’s not retreating at all.
It’s only waiting until I least expect it to strike.
Okay, okay.
Not like I could bring myself to do that. It would be unfair.
I’m not nearly as afraid, anyway. It can’t possibly do anything else to me, can it?
I tell myself that as I turn the lights off once again. For the first time since that nightmare four days ago, I’m not hyperventilating or panicking about trying to go to sleep. I feel normal. Safe, even.
There’s an episode of Doctor Who called Blink.
It’s about these assassins that turn into angel statues whenever a living thing is looking at them, but when they’re not being looked at, they move insanely fast and kill their victims.
“Don’t turn your back, don’t look away, and don’t blink. Blink and you’re dead.”
It’s the Doctor’s warning, the final ominous statement of the episode as dozens of statues flash by on the screen.
All the lights are out now, and I feel as ready as I can. This time I stare at the Haze’s usual hiding spot intently, studying it for any sign of movement. Countless images of what could happen fill my mind, from the dark cloud swallowing my room entirely to random things crawling out of the walls to attack me. Still, I’m not afraid because, usually, I can recognize the difference between reality and my imagination. Usually.
The floor gives and creaks just slightly enough that something could be walking on it, but I ignore it. It’s just in my mind. Shadows pooled on the ceiling crawl along the walls, stopping at the mirror on one wall and the window on another. I stare at the huge rectangle of black above the window. It doesn’t move, naturally. Has it always been there and I’m just noticing it now, or is it like those things, those stone angels, and it’s careful to move only when I’m not looking?
A cold breeze brushes past my face. I feel a light pressure fall across my entire body like a blanket, but nothing else. First I think that maybe it’s given up, that maybe this Haze will realize I’m not scared and just leave me alone already.
Then a thought jumps into my mind that scares me almost as much as the nightmare from days ago.
It’s not retreating at all.
It’s only waiting until I least expect it to strike.