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At Night

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Have you ever gotten a feeling where it feels as if you're being watched? For example, when you go to bed at night. You know you're all alone but it just feels as if something is right next to you, watching you. You roll over on to your side and try to make this feeling go away,  there's nothing you can do about it so you just suck it up and try to get some sleep.

But no matter what, she's watching you. She's watching me as I write this. I can feel her heavily breathing down my back. Her long, greasy hair brushes against my arm. I try not to turn around and look at the gruesome sight. I check my watch. It is 3:00 a.m, Witching Hour. Well, that's what the people in my town say.

Her damp, bony hand squeezes my left shoulder. Her long, filthy nails sink into my flesh drawing blood. I scream in pain. She looks at me in the eye. Her eyes- no color, no pupils- just plain white. Her eyes stare into my soul. She whispers something into my ear. It's hard to make out because her voice is like listening to two pieces of sandpaper violently rubbing together. It sounds kinda like "felicis" but what does that mean?

She cuts a gash on my left arm. She puts her cold, chapped, lips on my wound and sucks up the blood from the wound she has given me.

She looks at me in the eye again and says something in English that sounds like, "I did not kill you, but I will come back. You have been warned."

She stands up revealing her almost transparent, skinny legs. The rest of her body is like that too for she is wearing what looks like a stained hospital gown. I feel sorry for her, she looks about ten or eleven. I reach out my hand and try to touch her, but she backs away and disappears in the shadows.

I wake up on the floor of my bedroom. I am sweating and try to gasp for air. As soon as I catch my breath I look at my hand. There is a deep scar in my left arm. I sit up, go downstairs and turn the TV on. The news channel appeared on my screen. It says that there were a bunch of murders last night at 3:00 a.m. The reporter says that every victim had a deep scar in their left arm, just like mine. The reporter also says that all their blood had been drained and that their eyes had been taken and were replaced with buttons. I turn the TV off.

She comes back every night now, at 3:00 a.m. She comes and cuts me and drinks from my wounds. She is slowly draining all my blood, slowly killing me. She told me not to go to the police or hospital, but why? I don't know. Each day I'm beginning to look more and more like her. I am also beginning to crave for blood. The time is 3:00 a.m and I'm very thirsty.

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