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Suspense

This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm.

EDITS

Mar. 18. 2022- first copy

Mar. 19. 2022- Deleted, fixed, and tried to add more effect

Mar. 20. 2022- Made plenty of fixes! I actually think this is getting better.

Mar. 21. 2022- Final edit, I am done :) Ran it through 'ProWritingAid' & 'Grammarly'

*CRITICISM IS APPRECIATED*


Her eyes were wide, and her lips holding closely together, the fatigue a continuous battle. Almost as though they had been glued to her, she hugged her legs to her chest, counting her breaths and following her heartbeats. The room was dim at the edges, her light becoming softer as it aged. The walls were suffocating her and the claustrophobic thought disturbed her. She smelled the grime and dust. She picked up on the tiny insects at her light. Peering at her door with anxiety, millions of ideas of what could be circling and whispering in her mind. But she warned herself, ‘Don’t blink’.

Her mere distraction was the clock. The noise echoed throughout the room, intimidating her every occasion. It sounded awfully loud or whisperingly silent. Her eyes started to strain, and she noted them becoming dryer by the minute, feeling the sting and desperation to blink. Tempted, she endured the pain, her eyes battling to close, but she cautioned herself, ‘Don’t blink’.

A bead of sweat dripped from her forehead, her racing heart not letting her think. She knew she had seen it. She testified on everything she had left. She struggled to assure herself, but she kept on to the idea. Her palms became sweaty, her body shaking in it’s place.

It continued like this for too long, the ticking clock; the worrying sound of air in her ears; the uneasiness in her thoughts. It would eventually drive her insane, and she considered she was crazy because she hadn’t looked at it further. It created little sense, it was there- she saw it. She craved to assure herself that it was okay, that there was nobody there. But she felt something there, and she swore it was breathing down her neck. She felt her eyes squinting, and she was fighting the battle to keep her eyes open.

Don’t blink.

She heard another tick, holding her breath. Her eyes shot to the clock, and she didn’t blink or move. She noticed the time, just past two, and felt her heart skip a beat. She registered that the night had just begun, and she felt exhaustion as an unfair battle. Her heart was pounding, and her limbs and muscles were weak. She acknowledged she didn’t want to do this. Her breathing was small, controlled, yet suppressed. She held her breath, making sure she heard... nothing. If nothing shifted, then there was nothing to suspect. But that contradicted herself. She needed to hear something unusual- she wished to see something.

The lights became darker, swallowing the corners and making the walls were suddenly smaller, and her head snapped towards the light. The bugs must have died somehow. They didn’t move, didn’t hit the light anymore. It-

Her eyes snapped to the light switch.

It took a moment too long for the girl to notice was she was seeing because she wasn’t expecting it. There it was, its ‘finger’ on the switch, threatening to overwhelm the light with darkness. She heard her heart beating in her ears, her breath starting to quicken. It was too much for her body, and she felt the dizziness swirling her vision and making her feel sick.

Its eyes were the most human part of it. She noticed that it wasn’t human, but it was. She noticed that it wasn’t tall, yet it wasn’t small. It changed every second it was there. It wasn’t too round, wasn’t too slim, wasn’t too ugly yet it was disgusting. Its eyes seemed to be the most human part of it, and it appeared to be crying. It looked more miserable than her. There was a grin on its face, and it was small but it began to grow.

Don’t blink.

Its grin was slowly becoming longer, stretching its face with it. Its chin would become evident and sharp, thinning out the creature’s face. Its smile would stretch to its ears, and the creature flinched. She felt beads of sweat lining her forehead, her fingers trembling with her lips as she tried to stay still and not cry.

Don’t blink.

Don’t blink.

She was becoming desperate. She wanted to check the time, she wanted to believe she was wrong- it couldn’t have been nearly past two, she had to have been sitting for a lot more time than that. Her eye twitched, her mind telling her to run. But there was nowhere to run. Her brain told her it was real, and every part of it was real: so she believed it. She believed it was real. No, she didn’t believe it, she knew it was real, and then she realized she didn’t want it there anymore. She wanted to open her mouth to scream, but her lips wouldn’t budge. It felt like they had been stitched together.

She blew a lot of air through her nose, the creature tilting her head. She felt every joint in her body start to ache, and she wanted to move to feel relief. While watching the creature, she hesitantly parted her hands and felt her elbows pop. The sudden burst of pain surprised her, and she yelped and-

All she could see was the creature’s eyes and its long... long smile. It was shaking, she felt it breathing on her. She couldn’t move, her mouth is now slightly open. She could see the color in its eyes. She could see the veins, she could see the straining red from keeping its eyes open. Its eyelids had been stitched open, so wide, its eyeballs seemed to be sitting in a socket. They could fall out whenever they wanted to.

She suddenly heard whispering from every corner and every line and door, it was reminding her, “Don’t blink”. It was challenging her, and she felt her breathing quicken. Her eyes would open, and her heart dropped. She forced them open, and the gnawing fear was now chewing at her bones. She clenched her jaw, her lips slightly parted as tears started running down her face.

“Don’t blink” The little voices said, not getting any louder but not getting any quieter. She felt dizzy. She felt her head spinning, her heart slowing yet it was going too fast, she felt her trembling hands and she felt her arms getting stiff.

The whispering seemed to be getting closer. Nothing was there, but she could feel whatever it was breathing on her neck and she could feel the heat sending chills down her spine. She choked on her own tears, as the sudden realization that she had blinked made her feel helpless. She wanted to beg for it to stop, and when she opened her mouth, and felt her voice tearing at her vocal cords-

And now she’s screaming on the floor, scratching at her skin and tearing it until it bled from the seams. She was pulling at her hair, feeling the strands breaking and slowly slipping and ripping from her scalp. She was on her knees, hunched over. She thought she heard something unfamiliar, so she slammed her head on the floor until she knew it had stopped. She felt nothing but pain, her voice becoming weaker and more hoarse. Her vision would become blurrier every time she hit the floor, and she suddenly felt sick.

She stumbled to her feet, groaning as a throbbing headache ensued. She touched her head and saw how bloody her hands were. She felt it dripping down her face.

Her blood stained the ground and her clothes, puddling large blotches. Her hands shook as she slowly lost blood. Nearly tripping, she stumbled to the walls. She would step on her own broken teeth, her hands landing on the cold tile, and started to paint their own, beautiful creations.

Her hands felt sticky, and she couldn’t understand why. She clawed at her face, the stinging and throbbing headache starting to frustrate her, but it only made it worse. She started to feel numb and sick. She felt her fingernails digging into her flesh, and she yelped from the sudden surprise. She slipped, falling backward as blood pooled from her mouth and dripped down her face. She yelped and hit her head on the knob of one of the doors.

She took her last breath, and she saw nothing but the ceiling.

March 19, 2022 06:06

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1 comment

Yves. ♙
02:16 Aug 08, 2022

Why, this is a dark one! Good to see young writers getting ambitious; this fits the prompt very well.

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