Tuesday, October 29, 2013

13 Posts Of Halloween (2013 Edition) #10 Short Story Part.5

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Hidden In The Darkness
(A short story by S. Emory(Nobody))
Part 5


        The next time I wake up I'm covered in sweat and back in bed with no recollection of how I got there. My flat is still shrouded in darkness, every time I look out the window I see blood raining down from the sky and so I leave the black clothe hanging where I found it the first morning.
I feel rejuvenated, truly awake for the first time since I woke up covered in blood and for the first time I consider the fact that I must be going crazy and somehow the thought comforts me.
Standing up carefully I approach the windows once more, feeling as if a pane of glass fogs over my memory of the last few days trying to convince me that it was nothing but a crazed stupor, as if none of it is real and maybe if I could find a way to come back to reality it will all just fade away. But to do that I have to prove to myself that the sky is not bleeding. My hand reaches forward tentatively and I see that it's shaking. Forcing a deep breath into my lungs I slowly pull the clothe away from the window. My eyes close tightly without a conscious thought and I sit there for what feels like a long time trying to find the courage to open them again and face my fears...
A knock on the door makes me jump, letting the clothe fall back into place before my eyes open. I try to steady myself once more before crossing the room to the door, I flip the light switch praying that the lights will actually come on, and almost yelping from surprise and happiness when they do. 
Standing on tip-toes I look through the peep hole a small grin spreading across my face even though I try to stop it. Zeke stands in the hall, the dim light casting his face in shadow as he stands there fidgeting like he's nervous or concerned and I realize that I haven't so much as left my flat in at least a week, most of which I can't remember and glancing quickly at my cell sitting on the table next to my bed I see the blinking red light of missed calls.
“Just a minute!” I call out as I lower myself back down and rush to the bathroom to make sure I don't look like I'm crazy, because even if it makes everything make sense and even if in a way I hope it's true, I don't want anyone else to know it.
Glancing in the mirror a look of shock crosses the face staring back at me, identical to the way I feel. I look probably the most put together I've ever looked even when wearing old pajama pants and an old Rolling Stones shirt. I know my reflection, disheveled but almost put together with my mousy brown hair in a messy ponytail, just enough makeup that it barely counts and guaranteed a small streak of paint either in my hair or on my face, slightly pale for spending too much time inside but healthy none the less. But the person staring back at me looks more like my sister, tan skin, the same mossy brown hair but tamed into silky shining curls, and dark eye makeup to highlight the bright blue eyes that we shared, while we are twins we haven't looked identical since she discovered makeup and I discovered that I would rather spend time inside alone with my art. So though I recognize the face, parts of it as my own I know it's not really me, and that's when the blood starts dripping down the walls and I start screaming.

Part 1 Here!
Part 2 Here!
Part 3 Here!
Part 4 Here

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