Intruder 2.0

The pitch black blanket of night,
swaddles me with comfortable bliss.
As night owls stalk their prey in silent solitude,
I lay atop a bed--
Sleep weighing hea
                                vi
                                             ly 
                                                       upon my eyelids,
I listen intently to the wonders of nature 
that flow from my unrestricted window.
soothing troubled thoughts
in a melodic lullaby.
Breathing in the crisp breeze;
carried in on refreshing waves
filled with purple promises,
and scattered with morsels of adventure. 

All is dreamy, until….
Blaring beeps
-------slice-------
through my world
tearing paradise from my startled grasp

I jump 
then tremble.
Heart frantically pounding as
panic seizes my chest.

The phone on my bedside table,
noisily dances the jitterbug
          in a
--life on the line--
        frenzy.

Reaching for it with shaking hands 
I fumble to get a grip.
When I finally do,
I wish I hadn’t
.    
Demanding
red letters 
--flash--
across the screen.
They read:

ALERT, ALERT
We Are Under Attack
Bar Your Windows 
and 
Lock Your Doors!   !    !    !    !


The phone starts raging with text messages
repeatedly stating
Let me in! Let me in!

On the verge of hysteria 
I leap from my bed,
try to run,
and fail.

My legs are still asleep
and tangled in blankets.
Collapsing on the floor in a heap
a shrill cry 
                                                         escapes 
from my lips.

Body convulsing
U   n     o       n t                l  a    b   l

         c                    r    o l                 y 

with fear
The world seemingly detonates,
shutting down my cerebrum.

In this frightful state,
my eyes wander to the window.
Still wide open!

Suddenly a crash resounds outside,
making me jump up
only to trip,
and fall
once again.

Deep throated growls, booming gunshots 
                            and
the scream of someone faced with death.

Scream still rattling within--
my brain paints scenes that belong
in horror films 
ONLY

Something warm and wet slides down my face

When did I start crying?
It doesn't matter

Sudden movement on my windowsill 
--snaps--
me back to attention.

Big hairy fingers can be seen grabbing onto my innocent wall
( creamy, vanilla cake yellow)
located on the inside of my window,
straining under the weight 
of a hefty load.

I reach for my baseball bat:
it lies forgotten,
under my bed
from last years softball season.

Brain, still pea-soup thick and foggy
I can’t quite comprehend what the 
heck is going on!

Winding up
prepared to strike,
the bat’s frigid, emotionless metal 
molds perfectly into my predestined hands. 

As I turn around
a hideous face appears, 
following the lead of those darn hairy fingers.
Features, gruesome and cruel,
there has been no worst curse on this land.
Even Belle could never find beauty in this beast.
In this I am certain. 
I knew in that moment,
forever more 
his face 
would haunt
my dreams.

Our eyes meet.
A disturbing smile creeps up his murderous lips.
My muscles move on their own accord,
the crunch of metal on bone
release my muscles from whatever force controlled them.
My eyes swept over the scene before me
reaching the window just in time to see
his limp body fall two stories down
Meeting the ground with a heavy squelch.

Blood stains every inch of my vision,
I gasp as the reality of it all hits me.
Tears stream down my face,
a panic attack on the horizon.
This is no marvel movie.
It’s too much,
I scream.

Let the world hear my desperation,
the fear that courses through my body.
Let them understand
the weight and pain of this fresh burden I carry.
Moments later I hear footsteps pounding up the stairs.
Throwing open the door,
Mom enters the room in her nighty
sleep still lingers in her eyes,
confusion and angst are written upon her brow.

Eyeing the bat soaked with blood
I hold distantly in my hands,
her eyes scan the room.
They widen so much, I’m afraid they might pop.
Opening and closing her mouth unable to form words 
I find trama has robbed me of my voice.
I grab my phone with shaking hands,
pushing it in her face.
Her eyes move back and forth as she reads
panic etches on her face.
I point a shaking finger at my window.
Then at my bat.
Reminance of blood on both.
Quivering like a feather in the wind
she walks tentatively towards the window,
taking a peek out at ground below.
A new kind of terror reflects within her eyes.
She takes a step back,
So I extend my hand 
Yearning for her comforting arms to surround me
But she quickly backs up
Away from me.
Her expression portrays a bitten dog.
Confusion claws at my heart,
then I understand
She is scared… of me?!
I gather my strength and step toward her
Her mouth opens wide and she screams...

 

Whitney

VT

17 years old

More by Whitney

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    time;
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    glass stregthens
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    clouds converge and darkness reigns
  • By Whitney

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    I am guilty

    The bars which restrain me
    are but my own fault

    I am guilty

    The lifeless walls
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    yield no give as I fight to break free

    My crimes:
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  • By Whitney

    Only A Memory

    The wind
    brushes my cheek, with a kiss. 
    Neck craned, my eyes
    skim the sky in bliss

    The scene before me,
    a canvas to interpret,
    I stare, deep within the soul of each star
    this game I refuse to forfeit.