The Seastone Chair

Dark Shadows

No one believes me. No one else experiences the things I do. Call it a premonition, psychic awareness, vibes, any of those labels that make people think I’m creepy, but I feel things—see things that others cannot. Why I was the one saddled with this gift or curse in my family, depending on how you look at it, I have no clue. My dreams had always been vivid, showing me bad things before they happened, which only spooked people more when I mentioned they should be extra careful doing certain things. My mom thinks it’s something I can just turn off, believe me, I’ve tried to no avail. Yet on this day, my faith and my sanity would truly be tested.

~~~

Getting to watch the sun come up in the early morning is one of my favorite things to do, especially when the house is quiet and a hot cup of coffee is within my reach. So many times, I’ve sat in this room overlooking the yard, watching the billowy white steam float toward the ceiling. It’s when I daydream, plot my day and take those few extra moments to myself before the kids wake up and the chaos of getting everyone out the door on time takes over.

Curling my legs on the couch beneath me, I could catch the perfect view of the suns first rays, and that’s when I saw it out of the corner of my eye to the left of me on the swing. I didn’t dare turn in that direction, acknowledge that I was no longer alone in the room. I closed my eyes, wishing that the shadowy figure would disappear, hoping that I was imagining it. Maybe I wasn’t fully awake yet, perhaps I hadn’t had enough coffee. I counted to three in my head, opened my eyes, and it was still there. A prickling sensation rushed down my spine and my breath caught. I hated this feeling, knowing there was a ghostly presence watching me. From past experience, the dark ones were always trouble. Sometimes I wished I had clairaudience so I could communicate with them and figure out why they were here and what they wanted, though I had no doubts they could read my thoughts directed at them.

Planting my feet on the floor, I reached for my cup of coffee and stood. I just didn’t want to deal with any negativity today, so I left my peaceful spot in the sunroom and went back inside the house. Just as I settled myself on the couch, an extreme chill hit my back. I took a deep breath, hoping the shadow hadn’t followed me inside but knew what that cold energy meant—nothing good. A searing pain hit my head, as if a knife cut straight through my brain, doubling me over. My eyes slammed shut and I wrapped my arms around myself, as I swayed from side to side.

In my mind’s eyes, a vision appeared. My bedroom came into focus, beautiful hard wood floors the color of oak with gray carpeting that had purple swirls. I gasped when I saw myself and held myself tighter. There I was, lying on the floor, my brown eyes vacant staring up at the ceiling of my bedroom. Never once had I saw myself, my visions always concerned someone I loved, but today, that all changed. What does this mean? I scanned my unmoving body from head to toe, looking for signs of injury, but found nothing. Pain shot through my head again and my eyes snapped open. Damn.

I forced myself to get up and staggered my way to the bathroom, desperate for something to help take the pain away. I opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of Advil. All I had to do was wait 15 minutes and the pain should start to subside. Taking a paper cup, I filled it with water, popped the pills into my mouth and chugged. Just this tiny action gave me a sense of relief. Even the chill on my back seemed to be fading now. I returned the medicine bottle to the cabinet and closed the mirror door.

My eyes grew wide as I stared at the shadowy figure standing behind me. When he raised his arm, I fled, darting across the hall and into my bedroom, tripping over the leg of the standing jewelry box and fell to the floor. My mind began to spin and I rolled onto my back. The icy feeling returned full force, fear gripping every part of my being. I stared up at the man, could see the haziness of his outline as he sat on top of me, pinning me in place. I struggled to move, but my body refused to respond to my mind’s will. I had to do something. I had to get out of there, do something to make this stop, make him go away.

My mouth opened, words filtering through my mind in rapid succession of what to say, but no sound came out. Panic gripped my heart like a vice. I tried to speak again, my throat burning to get the words out, yet they still wouldn’t come. He leaned down, inching closer to my face, the icy sensations seeping into my bones, making me shiver.

“Noooo,” I rasped, the sound of my own voice so foreign to me.

Just like that, the shadow disappeared. I laid there for a few minutes, my rugged gasps for air burning my lungs as my mind struggled to make sense of what just happened to me.

It was then that I heard my mother’s voice ringing in my ears on a loop in my head. “You should really try to find a way to turn that off.”

Maybe she was right.


Written for "SCREAMS!!!"   by Lilith of House Martell
Prompt 2: Shadows
WC: 967