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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1822933-Night-Terrors
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1822933
There are things worse than a messy house .......
The rain had been falling steadily outside for hours now, and the dog had brought in proof that the backyard had most likely turned into a murky lake, his large, muddy footprints highlighted on the white tile floors.
She sighed as she thought of the effort involved with cleaning the mud off, and the fact the it would be back again in only a short few days. The house was already a mess, her two girls making their best efforts to ensure as much of their stuff was scattered everywhere but their bedrooms.
She flicked off the light to the kitchen, and the house darkened. Only the lamp illuminated the corner of the lounge now, its orange light casting shadows across the couch. “Probably for the best” she thought, as it meant she couldn’t see the huge pile of washing sitting there, waiting to be folded, put away, worn, then put back into the wash, to continue what felt like it’s neverending cycle.
Outside there was the low rumble of thunder, as if echoing the dark mood that she had been in all day.
Down the hallway she could hear the sound of the shower running. She knew that he would be in there, relaxing after a long day at work. It was his evening routine, and one she didn’t interfere with.
She looked around the lounge again, mentally noting all the things she would have to do the next day. At times she wished that she could just shrug her shoulders and let all of the little things slide, like the sole glass sitting on the bookshelf, or the doll lying by the foot of the couch. But she knew that, if ignored, they would slowly grind away at her, until she would burst in frustration.
But not tonight. Tonight, gritting her teeth, she would ignore them. Even the doll. Even that particularly large muddy footprint.
Outside, the dog howled.
“Hmm, he doesn’t normally do that. In fact he never does that.” She thought to herself.
She walked over to the ranchslider doors and carefully pulled back the blinds, so not to draw his attention.
The dog stood at the edge of the verandah, just outside the reach of the lashing rain. He stood out in the dark, his white fur almost glowing in the dark. He was staring intently into the dark, poised as if he had seen something. She knew that if he had, he would have leapt out there to have a look, as the rain didn’t worry him. But not this time.
With a final, loud  bark, he turned, and in ran into his small kennel, vanishing into it’s dark depths.
Shaking her head, she closed the blinds, a little confused by the dog’s actions.
The sound of the shower running had finally stopped. She knew he’d now be drying himself, getting ready for bed where he had promised her lots of cuddles, her favourite remedy after a bad day.
Walking through the lounge, she flicked off the lamp, the room dropping into darkness. The washing pile, the dogs footprints, the glass on the shelf, vanished into its inkiness. Along with the doll, sitting on the couch.
A clatter came from the bathroom. The light in there was off, so he must have already gone to the bedroom. “Damn kids toys” she thought, imagining that one of the many perched along the bath tub must have fallen in, or something similar.
Navigating her way towards the bathroom, she gently pushed the door open and reached inside to flick on the light. Before it’s glow even told her what had happened, she felt the breeze coming through the open window.
Click. With the light on, her thoughts were confirmed. The bathroom window was open, the wind and rain blowing through the security screen covering it. A small herd of plastic ponies, belonging to her youngest, were lying in the bath tub, obviously blown in there.
Cursing under her breathe, and wondering why the window was open – “he never showers with the window open” -, she walked in and quickly slid the window closed, cutting off the cold breeze.
“More stuff to have to tidy up”, she muttered to herself. Turning, she flicked off the light switch and walked towards the bedroom.
She paid no attention to the lounge, or the shadows cast through the windows from the trees dancing in the growing storm out. Not even the one shadow that detached itself from the wall and glided slowly towards the bedroom as well.
Opening the bedroom door, she was greeted by the usual sight. Further disarray ruled the room, clothes scattered in piles, random odds and ends on the dresser.  The soft glow of his mobile phone and the lamp beside the bed were all the illuminated the room, by it was enough. Groaning, she closed her eyes, pretending that the mess wasn’t there, but on opening them, realised that no matter how much wishing she did, the mess wouldn’t simply vanish.
It was then that the blinds above the bed exploded, and a dark form leapt forth.
A small squeal escaped her, as the cat bounced off the bed, and the form huddled under the blankets, hit the floor, and took off out the door.
“Bloody cat …” she muttered under her breathe. Looking at the form in the bed, she was surprised he hadn’t moved. He normally didn’t fall asleep this quickly, but he had mentioned earlier that it had been a long day.
She clambered over his slumbering form, trying not to wake him, and crawled in under the covers. She felt him move slightly, before realising that she hadn’t turned the lamp off yet. Reaching back over him, she switched off the lamp, casting the last room in the house into darkness.
She couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for herself. The long, crappy day she’d had, the mess in the house, and now he had fallen asleep without giving her the cuddles she so desperately needed. Wriggling further under the blankets, she closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly, as further thunder rumbled in the distance.
She felt movement behind her, and then his arm wrapped itself around her, as he pulled her close. She felt his warm breathe on her neck as he cuddled her close, and felt his lips on the base of her neck, kissing her in that spot which made her melt. Smiling, she wriggled back into him, getting as close as she could, feeling some of the stresses of her day slip away as the man she loved hugged her close.
Another kiss, this time down her back, make her shiver with pleasure.
“Mmmmm, I thought you were asleep John,” she said feeling the warmth of his body pressed against her, his hands trailing over her body.
His kisses moved further up until his mouth was at her ear.
“John isn’t here anymore”.
Thunder, this time closer, rattled the house, as his hands pressed tightly, painfully into her body. Then the lightning came, lighting the room as if it was the middle of the day.
All except for the shadow on the ceiling, directly above her.
Her screams were drowned out by the rolling thunder, and outside, the dog howled into the darkness.
© Copyright 2011 Ham on Rye (ham_on_rye at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1822933-Night-Terrors