Perhaps it was too many late nights of reading Stephen King novels, or perhaps it was that five day old pizza she'd been eating over the last two days; whatever it was Heather had been having trouble sleeping for the past week. Luck would have it the one night she was finally managing to catch some decent Z's that there would be a knock at her bedroom door. At first she ignored the sound, thinking that it was merely an illusion of her mind's wandering eye, but when the noise came again accompanied by the voice of her five year old son calling out her name she reluctantly, yet willingly, hauled herself out of bed.
She opened the door and bent down to his level and asked him what was wrong. She figured it was probably just a bad dream or a bad tummy ache, but what came out of his mouth when she asked was not what she expected to hear.
"The shadow man is keeping me up. He goes away after I talk to him a bit mostly, but he won't stop standing at my bed."
"Sweetie, I think you were just having another bad dream..." Heather cooed, petting her son's hair lovingly until he pulled away flustered.
"But mommy, he was really there. Come on, I'll show you!" he urged, grabbing her hand and pulling her in the direction of his room. She followed, hoping to put his mind to ease and put him back to bed so that she could get back to her much needed sleep.
The little boy opened the door to his room and pointed towards the foot of his bed, "See, he's right there!"
But Heather did not see. There was nothing there to see at all...
Finally got my blog up at the last minute. I say last minute because I was hoping to get this thing started before having to return to college tomorrow. I realize I should probably be sleeping right now but to tell you the truth, I can't sleep at the moment. Probably just a case of before move jitters even though I've moved more times than I care to share, but then again I'm glad to be returning to college. It keeps the brain from going to mush and gets one away from home and the parents. When you're the 'baby' of the family, parents tend to treat you differently than the older child without realizing they're doing so; and my mother is a prime example of this. But that's a story for another time I suppose, isn't it?
Speaking of stories the paragraphs in italics probably look irrelevant to the rest of this post and some of you may wonder why. Well I'm working on getting a collection of short horror stories, called Something In the Mist, that I've been working on for about a year now to publication. I was hoping to gain some feedback on some snippets and full stories from the collection from people other than my close friends and family to see if anyone would be interested in buying the book once I am able to get it out in the world. I guess I also plan on using this as a bit of a d-stressor since I had a bit of trouble with that last semester at college. So if I seem to bitch at times please forgive me.
With that I should be getting to bed as it is getting late, and I hope you'll all enjoy reading what I have to offer in the near future.
-Alice
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