Two Short Stories
I woke up slowly, one eye after the other opening carefully. I couldn’t remember where I was when I fell asleep, but all I knew now was that I was awake and I had to get out of here. Nothing looked familiar. My bed was surrounded in bars, keeping me in. I was trapped, I was a prisoner. I was frightened. I had to escape, but how?
I heard voices, but couldn’t see the person who was talking. Afraid someone would hear me I moved slowly, but with purpose. There was a pillow cushioning the bottom half of the bars. I pulled myself over to it and using the bars, pulled myself up, getting a glimpse of the room for the first time.
It was dark in the room, and all I could make out were shapes. One shape looked familiar. It was a chair next to the bed. I knew immediately that it was placed there so someone could sit and watch me. Someone had been spying on me, I thought! I must get out of here before they come back. I reached up grabbing the top bar, and pulled, realizing if I maneuvered just right I might be able to escape this bed with all the bars. I stepped onto the pillowed cushion giving me a boost and pulled with all my might. I lifted my leg over the edge of the bar and climbed onto the chair next to the bed.
I did it! I was free of the bed! Now how to escape the room? My eyes were getting accustomed to the dark, and I could see a very large door that I hadn’t noticed before. It was so high I wouldn’t be able to reach the door handle. Despair started to sink in. I heard footsteps outside the door. I didn’t have anywhere to hide, perhaps if I stayed really still in the chair the owner of the voice wouldn’t see me?
The very large door began to open. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see who was holding me prisoner.
A voice says, “Well, good morning, Michael, how did you get out?” I recognized that voice, opening my eyes slowly I looked up smiling, it was Mom.
The rain pounded on the roof, bringing thunder and lightening and leaving havoc in its wake. I listened to the storm rage from safely inside my bedroom. TV on, Netflix playing, watching my favorite Doris Day movie, I had never been more cozy. My dog, Jake was even relaxed, laying at the end of the bed keeping my feet warm. The storm raged on and in my cozy home I could think of nothing but how much I loved nights like these. Safe and warm in my own space, with my dog at my side. There was nothing better than a good storm.
That is, until the power went out. With the power out my room no longer felt safe and cozy. The storm was a terrifying mess of noise outside of my window. Lightning cast shadows on the walls, and even my dog was up and alert now. I tried to shut out the storm by closing the curtains, but there was nothing to drown out all the noise. In the darkness I lit candles and instead of giving off an alluring glow their cast was more apt to cause the fear to rise in me as shadows hit the walls. The change of mood in the room had my dog up and barking at the thunder, and me racing around the house anxiously looking for flashlights. Fear and anxiety was rising up inside of my previously calm self.
Just then the power returned. I looked around my room, relaxing slowly as I turned my Doris Day movie back on again. I curled up on my bed, and Jake again settled at the foot of the bed. The candles were blown out now and the atmosphere in the room had changed once again. I sat back on my bed and sighed. The storm would be over soon.