Martha awoke from a deep sleep and stared into complete darkness. The room was pitch black, except for the red glow of the alarm clock, which read 2:34. Martha’s mouth was as dry as Death Valley, so she got out of bed and made her way towards the kitchen. “If I turn on the kitchen light, I’ll never get back to sleep,” Martha though to herself. Martha opened one of the cupboards and reach into the darkness, trying to find a glass. Her hand knocked over a stack and they started to fall to the kitchen floor. Martha pinned the stack of glasses between the counter and her hip, then slowly put them back in the cupboard gently. “Would I rather be fully awake from the kitchen light or from stepping on glass,” Martha wondered.
The window above the kitchen sink faced the street and the curtains danced softly as a chilly breeze blew in. Martha filled her glass ¾ full, shut of the water, then took a huge gulp. A stream of water trickled down her chin, but that didn’t stop her from chugging the rest of the water. She placed the glass in the sink, then reached towards the window to shut it, but froze. “I’ve never seen that care before and Mary Johansen didn’t say anything about having company over when we chatted this morning while getting the mail,” Martha thought with growing suspicion.
A long, black Cadillac sat parked in front of Mary’s house. Martha looked intently at the car, but there didn’t appear to be anyone sitting in the vehicle. Martha grabbed her phone and was about to dial Mary but paused. “Martha, you’re losing it! Mary is fine and this is a quiet neighborhood,” she said out loud to herself. Martha let out a slight sigh of relief, but still had a pit in her stomach as she sensed something was off. She had never seen this car before, and Mary rarely has company outside of the usual Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter weekends. This is very unusual.
A small creature was walking down the middle of the street but was too far away to recognize what it was. Martha’s eyes fixated on the creature like it was some sort of savior as it continued to walk down the road, closer to Martha’s home.
Martha watched the creature move closer and closer, waiting in agony to find out what it is. “Black cat!” Martha shouted. “It’s an omen,” Martha thought as she looked back at the car. A large figure suddenly appeared from the shadows carrying a large object draped over its shoulder. Martha identified the figure as a man. He wore a black trench coat, black leather gloves, and a black hat to cover his bald head.
Martha was as still as a statue as she watched this unfold. Her legs began to wobble, and knees shook as she was frozen in place, completely terrified. The man opened the trunk of the car and dumped the object into the trunk. It must’ve been heavy, as the entire car rocked once the object hit the trunk. The man threw a crowbar into the trunk too, then gently closed the trunk. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, then sat on the trunk of the car. The man took a few puffs, then flicked the cigarette into the street.
He stood up, adjusted his jacked and fixed his hat. The man quickly turned his head and looked directly at Martha, who was still watching through the window. Martha screamed and collapsed to the floor, knocking some mail off the counter that her hand hit on the way down. Her entire body trembled as she contemplated her next move, but her mind was blank. Martha clutched onto the counter and pulled herself up to her feet with great effort. Her knees were still wobbly as she clutched onto the counter for a life support. She was terrified to peak out the window but had to look. “He’s going to be standing right in front of that window, waiting for me,” Martha thought to herself, her mind racing.
Martha inched her face closer and closer to the window, believing this is where it ends. “Just rip off the band aid and look,” Martha thought as she moved completely in front of the window and peered out. Martha couldn’t believe what she saw.
No one was there and the car was gone. “Had I imagined this? Maybe I’m still dreaming,” Martha wondered, as her body continued to tremble. Martha stuck her head out the window and looked left and right, thinking for sure she would see something, but nothing was there. Martha slowly walked away from the window and back towards her room. She crawled under the covers and laid on her back. As Martha stared into the darkness, letting her mind wander, her eyes began to grow heavy from exhaustion. Martha fought it off the best she could, but the weight of her eyes was just too much. Finally, she drifted back to sleep.
Martha’s eyes shot wide open, and she sat up completely in her bed completely still. “I thought I heard something,” she thought to herself. Martha continued to wait in silence, fearing even the sound of her breath was too loud. After what felt like hours, she heard it. The sound of wood being pried apart. The sound came from the kitchen. “I must be sleeping,” Martha thought again, hoping that was the truck, but the pit in her stomach leads her to believe otherwise. Martha’s heart was beating faster and faster, she thought it might explode in her chest. “Can humans die from freight?” she wondered but was too occupied to think of an answer to her own question. The sound of wood being pried came again from the kitchen, this time much louder than the last. Martha then heard the sound of the kitchen window opening and a gush of cold air quickly entered the house.
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