Dark Room
I lie awake in the dark room, not daring to move or even breathe loudly. I hear a noise coming from the other side of the door and it sounds like it’s trying to communicate with me. This is not what I signed up for when I signed my lease. The deep, even breathing beside me and the muffled, yet persistent, tapping at the door both grow deafeningly loud, matching the volume of my heartbeat. Every muscle in my body tenses, and I can feel my blood pushing its way through my veins, struggling to match the tempo my heart sets. Even though I can’t see the walls, I feel them closing in on me, pushing me toward the door and the still-unidentified noise. I squint into the darkness as if trying hard enough will allow me to see through the door and face my fears without actually being in danger. It finally occurs to me that the breathing log next to me is bigger and tougher than I am. He can take care of this. That way I don’t have to die and he can feel brave or whatever it is guys like. Definitely the way to go. I try to wake him up, but he just mutters something about being a bear, so I leave him alone. What a hero. Looks like this one’s on me. I carefully make my way to the door and attempt to mentally prepare myself for this. I apprehensively open the door and in strolls the cat. He purrs like he’s immensely satisfied with himself. Annoyed but relieved, we both get in bed and go back to sleep.
