Every morning my door is disturbed. And I look away.
Gently at first, the door is swept back and forth, before the floor is spilt upon. The gap, opened; the carpet, soaked. Quickly the floor is made to disappear. Floorboards creak as wisps of dust are blown between them. The room is forced into artificial respiration, the air dragged in and out through splinters in the window frame. I close my eyes, my eyelids' skin dimly painted red.
The moonlight, thrown in from outside, is quelled; and darkness settles along walls. Unmoving, my body is stuck between bedsheets. Panic-stricken, my heart is beaten to a tumultuous rhythm. I am paralysed — the thought is pressed into my mind — I am helpless.
Finally, the door is freed from its perpetual drift. It is thrust against the wall as if by a great gust, though the room has ceased its breathing. A shadow is pushed beyond the threshold, somehow deepening the darkness that dwells there. A hand twists through; its fingers bite the frame. I close my mouth, lips tightly sealed and hope it will not come. But my eyes are opened.
The figure wrestles itself from the shadows. It is smothered by a ruptured robe which, coloured ash grey, flows in the stagnant air. It nears. A hood is formed from the fabric, its head tilts forward and the shadows produce a mask. A horrified gasp is lost within my throat.
The wretch floats to the foot of the bed. My toe is touched. The skeletal hands skulk up my leg; the hairs erect. I try to summon other thoughts, but each is cast away.
It grips my hip, and pulls itself from the blackened floor. I stare. Not at it, but at everything and anything. My lungs are filled with dark, dusty air. Coughs and croaks are choked from my throat. I cannot move, yet let the room soak into my eyes. It wriggles upright, taking form as a silhouette in the dim moonlight. The hood, touched by a dying breeze, collapses. The head of a ghostly girl is exposed.
Her. Forget her.
I see everything, and as my sight drifts larger and larger, the centre loses focus. The dark blotch ebbs; the face fades.
The world becomes grey, and I lie alone - until the sunlight rises.