Stories by Sarah

The Room

The door hung askew in its frame. Hazy yellow light, like a saint’s halo, leered at me from around the cracks, suggesting that someone, or something, was already in my room. I shuddered and continued tentatively down the hallway.

Feeling uneasy, I chastised myself for my situation. If I wasn’t so poverty stricken after my divorce, I could have afforded my own place, and not be forced to reside in this creepy, old, share home.

I reached out to turn the handle, when cold gusts surrounded me. Strange, I thought, looking around for the source of air. I folded my arms around my body, vigorously rubbing my skin.

Then I heard it. A shallow, rasping voice in my ear, unmistakable in its malice and intent.

Leave!

Shocked and confused I turned to see who had voiced the command, but there was no one there. Thinking I must be going crazy, I shook my head, opened the door and stepped inside.

A rope lay coiled like a snake at my feet; a noose tied at its end.

Again I heard the voice say, “Leave” as the rope began to move.

I turned and ran, knowing nothing on this holy earth would ever make me return…

By Sarah ©2018

img_3342
Image credit J.  Hardy Carroll

Prompt: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 338; and also, Sunday Photo Fiction – February 11th 2018

Advertisements

21 thoughts on “The Room”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s