Read Online Unidentified by Mikel J. Wisler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mikel J. Wisler
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was useless. It wasn’t just her throat’s dryness, it was thirst. She needed water. She threw back the thin sheet on her bed, the only covering she could manage in the heat, and headed for the bathroom.
Once in the bathroom, she found a glass she’d left there for exactly such occasions and filled it up in the sink. Bringing it up to her lips, she drank deeply, surprised at just how thirsty she had been. But as she drank, a long creaking sound from somewhere in the house caught her attention. She paused mid drink. Her eyes locked on the bathroom door she’d left partially open. There was only blackness beyond it.
Lowering the still half full glass of water, she kept her eyes locked on the partially open door. Another long creaking sound travelled through the house. Was someone up? Certainly someone must be awake. But as much as she tried to convince herself that there was a reasonable explanation for the creaking, something about the quality of the sound, how long each creak lasted, stirred panic within her. She could feel a chill in her chest as her heart raced.
She moved forward quickly, putting out her hand to push the bathroom door closed. As she did so, a hand reached out and stopped the door. Instinctively, Stephanie screamed at the hand. But as the scream escaped her mouth, she realized the hand belonged to her father, who stood just outside the door.
Tim pushed the door open, an expression of confusion and shock on his face. “Stephanie! What’s the matter?” he demanded.
“Dad!” was all she could manage at first. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Hey. Language,” he reprimanded her.
Embarrassed and now angry, Stephanie set the glass aside and pushed past her father and headed back to her room. She climbed back in her bed and tried to calm herself. It would be a while now before she could fall back to sleep. Her heart still thumped hard inside her chest. Her breathing was shallow. First the nightmare, now this. The night was a waste.
She closed her eyes, trying to force herself to calm down, but the darkness felt somehow oppressive and she couldn’t keep them closed for long. She looked about the room. Through her closed door and walls, she heard the toilet flush in the bathroom followed by the sink running. At last, the sound of her father walking back to his room could be heard. Once he was back in bed, the house returned to silence. The small fan in her room droned on, providing a bed of constant noise.
She looked at the window. Thoughts of the dream she had just had threatened to take over her mind. She needed something else to focus on, anything else. She reached for her smartphone, but then retracted her hand. She’d never get to sleep this way. She needed to sleep. Tomorrow—well, today, actually—was Monday. She was back on duty as a life guard at one of the resorts in Lincoln. It wasn’t much of a job, but it was close to home and managed to help her earn some money before heading back to college in the fall.
She rolled over in her bed, facing away from the window. Again, she closed her eyes, trying to still her rushing mind. She focused on slowing her breathing and trying to consciously relax. Slowly, her mind cleared. Feeling relaxation set in, she felt hopeful that soon she might fall back asleep. She needed it; being a lifeguard could be quite tedious. Being a lifeguard running on little sleep meant she would be tempted to fall asleep at some point in the afternoon heat. That was definitely not an option.
As her mind began to drift in the aimless ways it did just before at last being overtaken by slumber, the image of the grey figure with large black eyes standing before her popped into her brain. She opened her eyes suddenly as a reflex. She was still her room. But now, something felt different. A chill climbed up her back, the hair on her arms standing up. She felt sure something stood behind her, looking at her.
She tried to convince herself she was still upset by the
Once in the bathroom, she found a glass she’d left there for exactly such occasions and filled it up in the sink. Bringing it up to her lips, she drank deeply, surprised at just how thirsty she had been. But as she drank, a long creaking sound from somewhere in the house caught her attention. She paused mid drink. Her eyes locked on the bathroom door she’d left partially open. There was only blackness beyond it.
Lowering the still half full glass of water, she kept her eyes locked on the partially open door. Another long creaking sound travelled through the house. Was someone up? Certainly someone must be awake. But as much as she tried to convince herself that there was a reasonable explanation for the creaking, something about the quality of the sound, how long each creak lasted, stirred panic within her. She could feel a chill in her chest as her heart raced.
She moved forward quickly, putting out her hand to push the bathroom door closed. As she did so, a hand reached out and stopped the door. Instinctively, Stephanie screamed at the hand. But as the scream escaped her mouth, she realized the hand belonged to her father, who stood just outside the door.
Tim pushed the door open, an expression of confusion and shock on his face. “Stephanie! What’s the matter?” he demanded.
“Dad!” was all she could manage at first. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Hey. Language,” he reprimanded her.
Embarrassed and now angry, Stephanie set the glass aside and pushed past her father and headed back to her room. She climbed back in her bed and tried to calm herself. It would be a while now before she could fall back to sleep. Her heart still thumped hard inside her chest. Her breathing was shallow. First the nightmare, now this. The night was a waste.
She closed her eyes, trying to force herself to calm down, but the darkness felt somehow oppressive and she couldn’t keep them closed for long. She looked about the room. Through her closed door and walls, she heard the toilet flush in the bathroom followed by the sink running. At last, the sound of her father walking back to his room could be heard. Once he was back in bed, the house returned to silence. The small fan in her room droned on, providing a bed of constant noise.
She looked at the window. Thoughts of the dream she had just had threatened to take over her mind. She needed something else to focus on, anything else. She reached for her smartphone, but then retracted her hand. She’d never get to sleep this way. She needed to sleep. Tomorrow—well, today, actually—was Monday. She was back on duty as a life guard at one of the resorts in Lincoln. It wasn’t much of a job, but it was close to home and managed to help her earn some money before heading back to college in the fall.
She rolled over in her bed, facing away from the window. Again, she closed her eyes, trying to still her rushing mind. She focused on slowing her breathing and trying to consciously relax. Slowly, her mind cleared. Feeling relaxation set in, she felt hopeful that soon she might fall back asleep. She needed it; being a lifeguard could be quite tedious. Being a lifeguard running on little sleep meant she would be tempted to fall asleep at some point in the afternoon heat. That was definitely not an option.
As her mind began to drift in the aimless ways it did just before at last being overtaken by slumber, the image of the grey figure with large black eyes standing before her popped into her brain. She opened her eyes suddenly as a reflex. She was still her room. But now, something felt different. A chill climbed up her back, the hair on her arms standing up. She felt sure something stood behind her, looking at her.
She tried to convince herself she was still upset by the
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