In the midst of darkness

Monica's hands were shaking as the bitter cold cut through her thin gloves. She fumbled with the keys as she tried to unlock her car door. Her breath like a cloud in the darkness. She hears footsteps crunching against the hard snow, slowly and then coming closer, louder. Finally, she is able to get the key into the door and turns. She quickly sits down and closes the door, locking it. She doesn't see anyone around. "Were those footsteps a figment of my imagination?"

As Monica sits and waits for her car window to defrost, she puts on the radio. She keeps turning the radio until she gets to a station that doesn't sound like static. "This is an emergency announcement. Please be aware, there is a felon that has escaped from the maximum security correctional center. Please be advised, do not pick up any hitchhikers. Close all doors, lock all windows and be aware of your surroundings. Call your local police department with any suspicious findings.

She quickly draws in her breath and her hearts begins to race, she can feel her face flush, the sense of pounding in her ears. She quickly drives off, and takes a left turn toward home. She's left with worry, and frantic to get home. As she pulls into her driveway, she scans the front porch and makes sure that her security light comes on. The sound of her two dogs are barking relentlessly, a glee of their owner unlocking the door. "It's only been two hours, come on pups, I'll let you out the back door." As she opens the back door, she glances out back. The snow is drifting slowly, swirling in the moonlight. The pups make their way back in, shivering and shaking from the bitter cold. She quickly wraps them up in their soft blankets and lays them on the couch.

Monica grabs a glass from the cabinet, gets a drink of water from the tap and takes her sleeping pill. She makes sure the window is locked, and walks around the house checking each door twice. Once she feels safe and settled in, Monica cozies up on the couch with her pups. Looking for the remote, she finds it and turns on the television. She flips through channels, and comes upon the local news. Breaking news coverage of a felon that has escaped from the Max security prison. "Roger White, age 56, escaped from the Maximum security center this evening at 6:05 p.m. after beating down a guard. He remains at large and is considered dangerous. A mugshot of him flashes on the television; a tall 6'3" man with dark set eyes, scraggly hair and a smile that makes your skin crawl.

The clock reads 11:05 p.m., she pats her pups on the head, walks upstairs and lays down in bed. She pulls back her covers, walks to the bathroom and brushes her teeth. She looks back in the mirror and looks at her tired eyes. She is ready to settle in for the night. She leaves a lamp on at the bedside, nestled into bed with a book she is almost finished with and can't put down, and all of a sudden she hears her pups barking. She gets up, walks down the hallway and turns on the light that floods light onto the stairs. She creeps downstairs and the pups are barking louder. All of a sudden, the lights go out. Monica is now left in the darkness, and her fear starts to make her heart beat fast. "Maybe it's just a fuse." She feels around in the kitchen for a flashlight that is kept in a drawer and makes her way to the attached garage. She walks around the car and finds the fuse box. Suddenly, she hears the sound of a muffled breath. She scrambles to find the fuse switch and turns it back to on. She runs to the door and she hears in a deep male voice, "Don't open your eyes." Fear strikes Monica deep in her throat. Her throat tightens. She runs as fast as she can, the car the only thing between her and this deep voice. She flashes her flashlight and she is face to face with a man in a striped prison outfit, his dark set eyes on her. He runs toward her and his hands are on her neck. "Don't open your eyes." He says once more.

She feels herself become limp. Eyes fluttering, feeling as if her body is paralyzed. Paralyzed from fear, perhaps? His eyes glisten from the street light that shines through the garage window. He has no remorse. I'm just his next victim....

Monica tries to pry his hands off of her neck, but he is too strong. The phone is too far away, her neighbors unable to hear her muffled cries. As she tries to escape, his hands keep getting tighter. Sweat beads down her face, tears dripping from her eyes. Slowly he releases her, and as she clambers to the corner of the garage, she draws in a deep breath. She never felt so much freedom as she did with that one breath. He comes at her again, this time holding her down.

The stench of his breath so horrendous it lingers in the air. His tall stature is one that she won't be able to escape. Her worst fears comes to life. She hears her pups barking, and his grasp is tightening in on her neck. She is barely able to breath. "Please, don't kill me. I don't want my life to end this way." His grasp weakens, and she takes a gasp of air. Suddenly, she opens her eyes. She looks to her right and finds herself in bed, with the bedside light on. She closes her book, takes a deep breath and mutters to herself that she should stop reading these type of books before bed. This is what nightmares are made of she tells herself. She makes her way downstairs, and when she goes to turn on the light to the staircase, the light doesn't turn on. She scatters back upstairs to her room, locks the door, pushes the dresser against the door and scurries to bed. "I'll just wait until the sunrises, the lights can stay off for the rest of the night." She slips into a deep slumber, and awakes in the morning.

She turns on the news, and she finds that the escaped felon has been apprehended. "Roger White was apprehended at 11:08 p.m. in the 800 block of South Bend." Monica gasps as she places her hands to her mouth. He was here, waiting for me....