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Streaks

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The weather has been off lately. It's the middle of Summer, and it still feels like March. Cold fronts have dominated the weather patterns, and it's been nothing but rain for the past 3 weeks. You don't mind the rain, but it keeps pouring and pouring, leaving little else to your eyes and ears. Especially at night, when the rain makes everything colder and more still than before. But you can put up with it. You have to. Warmth is coming, you know it.

Warmth. Warm. Your bed is warm, you say to yourself. You pick yourself up, turn off the lights, and climb into bed. You close your eyes, dreaming of the sunny days sure to come.

You look out of your window that's right beside the bed, and see that the rain hasn't let up yet. You don't mind it. In fact, you pay close attention to the rain, falling onto your roof.

Tap. Tap. Tap. A pattern of sounding taps that create a sea of sound above and around you.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Awash in your warm bed, you sink further and further into sleep.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Nothing can pull you away from your bed, now.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A loud burst of thunder peals through the sky, and shakes your house. You're awake, startled by the thunder that jostled you from your sleep. Just thunder, you say. Just thunder. You climb out of bed, a little thirsty from sleeping in your warm bed. You head to the kitchen for something to drink. You go to the sink, pull a glass from the cupboard, and get some water. A contrasting coolness to your warm bed. You rinse your glass and look at the rain falling to the ground. Condensation has started creeping up the windows. You stare at the misty glass, surprised at how chilly it is in the middle of the warmest period of the year.

That's when you see the condensation crawl turn into a pattern before you. It works around some curves, long and narrow, creeping into a figure: a hand. The misty glass has revealed a hand print in the window. It's not unnatural for someone's hand to show up, you think. It's just someone's hand, after all. Maybe someone passed by the house when you were asleep. It's not the safest place in the world, but it's safe enough.

The mist continues crawling across the window, and you see that whoever did this left more than his hand streaked on your window. Words slowly form, and the condensation reveals the message.

IT'S SO COLD OUTSIDE

You stare at the window. Is there someone outside right now? You glance around, trying to see if there's someone trying to make their escape. A stupid prank, you think. Some kids passing by the house, thinking they can fuck with whoever lives there. You pay it no mind, put away your cup, and begin to walk to the bathroom.

The chill of the night starts to settle in, and you can hear the rain continue on your roof. Tap. Tap. Tap. Then, a soft peal of thunder, then the rain continues it's tapping. You take care of your business, and proceed to wash your hands. Drying them, you look in the mirror, thinking of what you're going to do when the summer sun comes back, and all the things you're going to do in the warm summer air. Yeah, warm. I should get back to bed, you think. Get back to sleep. It's too cold to-

It grabs your attention immediately. Even though your light is on, you see the condensation snaking across your bathroom mirror. It's cold, you think, but not THAT cold! It's shouldn't be moving this quickly! You can only stare at the misting mirror as another hand print reveals itself, longer and more narrow than the previous one. You head begins to spin as either someone is playing an elaborate prank on you, or you realize you're not alone. You stare at the mirror as it creeps past the hand, waiting for the words to appear.

"'It's so cold outside' again, right?", you say to yourself. You laugh nervously, wondering if the person is more imaginative than he first seemed. You watch as the mist reveals the message.

I'M SO COLD

That... wasn't as scary as you thought it would be. You laugh at the notion you were getting scared, and quickly brush it aside. You dry your hands, turn off the light, and make your way back to your room. As you climb into bed, you wrap yourself up and look out the window. The rain is still going strong, and you can't wait for your summer to actually begin. You listen to the rain as it's rhythm lulls you to sleep.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Your eyes start getting heavy.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The summer is about to begin.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Time to be in the warmth again.

Tap. Tap.

Mist begins crawling across your bedroom window. Right as you were on the verge of sleep, you caught sight of the mist racing across your window. Your eyes pop open as you see a hand reveal itself on the window, but this time, it's higher than the others.

"It's just a prank", you say. You lay there watching in silence, the raindrops falling on deaf ears. The mist quickly begins to reveal words, and you stare as the words reveal themselves directly before your eyes.

YOUR BED IS SO WARM, written directly in front of you.

You feel a shifting on your bed, as a new weight loads itself directly behind you. You can feel something or someone wet, soaking all the heat from your body. It moves in close, placing it's head close behind yours. It's breath is cold and foul, like a bog or other body of water. It's heavy, ragged breathing is so close to yours that it feels like it's matching you on purpose. Your heart grows cold as you hear it speak to you in a raspy, gargling whisper.

YOU ARE SO WARM

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