Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-7029884-20140409023713

///(How did I do? This is my first legitimate story that I wrote for pleasure. I kind of feel like I went overboard on the "don't explain things completely to create suspense/fear" aspect. If you want to read it on Google Docs for some reason, the link's below. Otherwise, the story is below the link, below this message.)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1o7pqcnGzdOtEgS4jPMz5W24UTuC-a8cxnzRKl08suKg/edit?usp=sharing

Nothing good can come from a knock on the door at midnight, but I answered it anyway. Standing on my doorstep was a young child, blonde, wet from the rain, and holding a teddy bear that was larger, but not by much, than his head. Most notable, though, were his eyes. One eye was blue. The other, purple.

“Yes, little child?” I asked. What could such an innocent looking thing be doing out here? Surely the neighbors wondered. He simply looked at me, smiled, and walked off. I made no effort to call him back. I didn’t need a burden tonight.

Sleep continued regularly. The appearance of the child only disturbed me slightly, and it was mostly due to shock. I didn’t expect it this early. When he would ring the doorbell, not knock, next week at exactly midnight, I would not be nearly as surprised. I hoped he would leave again. Four times, once a week, and it would be over. He needed to leave only four times. Then I would be safe. I felt my heart rate increase, and quickly calmed it. I could not fear it.

The second night went poorly. A ring came from the bell at midnight, one week later, not a moment sooner nor a moment earlier, just as expected. I answered it. The same boy as before was at my door. I recited again

“Yes, little child?” and my heart began to beat faster. The boy stared directly at, no, through my chest, right where my heart was drumming violently. This did not do much to help my palpitations. I managed to remain calm, though. Calm enough. I had to. He tilted his head, still looking at my chest, and smiled. Rows of broken teeth greeted me as he grinned, and I cringed, but I did not flinch. The child gave a disappointed look and left me. The third night would not go so poorly, I assured myself.

I sat in bed a week later, sleep not being an option. I wanted this to be over. The month of September coming to a close would save me. I still had hope. I needed to remain calm. I knew that was the only way I could survive. I waited expectantly until the clock reached midnight. I was tempted to open the door a moment sooner, and 11:59 seemed to last forever, and the temptations grew stronger.

Finally, 12:00 AM came. I breathed a sigh of relief before realizing what would come next. I didn’t want to open the door. It was easier with the notice of a knock, or a ring of the bell, I found. Tonight, though, no such message was given, and it seemed as though I was voluntarily chipping away at my peace of mind and wellbeing. I trudged over to the front door and opened it. The boy had grown. He now resembled a teenager, though he was still grasping that God-forsaken teddy bear. He was no longer a little child, and to call him such would seem absurd by most people. Despite this, I looked him in the eye, frightened, and recited what I had recited twice before:

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Yes, little child?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I had repeated this many nights and hours beforehand to ensure my voice did not waver or break, but I nearly stuttered still. I was not prepared. Who on Earth would be? My heart rate sped up, calmed by slow and steady breathing techniques that I had read about when I wasn’t practicing my line. I was as prepared as I could have been, and still not prepared enough. The fourth day would be nearly impossible, I thought, then came to the realization that the third day had not even come to a close yet. The boy, very thin, now held up his stuffed bear, making its eyes look into my heart, as he had done before. A wicked smile formed at his lips as the bear examined me. I did not dare look into the furry monstrosity’s eyes, but found extreme discomfort in focusing on the nothingness that the night brought just above the boy’s head. We sat like that, the boy in front of me, the bear’s eyes boring into my chest, and mine into the darkness of midnight, not even for a minute, yet it seemed like hours. Time dragged on as I silently begged someone, I don’t know who, to make this end quickly. The plea, obviously, was not answered, and time continued to move at an augmented pace.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Finally, somehow, it ended. The boy lowered his bear, kicked the ground in frustration, and left slowly. I shut the door behind him as a flood of relief hit me. One day more. I dropped to my knees and cried. I would not survive, I thought. I did not want to be taken. I didn’t want to die.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I threw away my large grandfather clock, and instead bought a digital one. The audible “tick tock” of my life being counted away was, to say the least, not a comforting sound. I needed to be able to tell the time, though. I would not be greeted with a pleasant knock or doorbell to signify my time to die had come. No. He would come for me, come into my house, yet I still had to find him. I had to meet my doom halfway. Why?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The fourth day finally came. Interesting how when you know you’re going to die, you invite it. I could not wait until midnight. In a way, this was entertaining. Even though I was already fully aware of what would happen, it would be interesting to see how, exactly, it happened. I felt like I should have written a note. What good would that do, though? I lived alone. I did not know my parents, assuming my kind has them. My type is antisocial. Without friends.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I didn’t know what to do. My mind raced. I heard a crash from my where I stood in my bedroom, unable to even sit still. 12:00 AM, the clock read. And then I decided something. There was a chance. I refused to let them take me. There was a slim possibility, but a possibility nonetheless, that I would survive. Slowly, I opened the door that leads out of my room.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The kitchen was likely the source of the crash. It was the closest room to my bedroom, and had a plentiful array of smash-able objects. Surely enough, when I entered, I was greeted with hundreds of shards of a broken plate. I nearly grunted in anger, but quickly brought my hand to my mouth. I could say nothing until I found him. Speaking would only ensure my death, along with everyone else’s. No, if I died, it had to be in the correct way. He wasn’t there, though. I experienced chills shooting through my spine, as I realized how close he just was to me, and how close he could be to me now. Next was the living room, which housed the front door that I had so recently before opened for that <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-style:italic;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">thing <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">. But now, he was not there. I blinked. I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and I instantaneously snapped my head towards it. It was gone. I slowly turned my head back in the original direction, keeping my eyes on that spot, and when I finally looked forward, a teddy bear, back facing me, was sitting, hunched forward, on my floor. It was then that the gravity of the situation dawned on me. It was in my house. This thing was in my home, the place so often represented as safety from all outside forces. As I was going over this realization in my head, I heard a low, distinct, streaming sound. He had turned on my sink. The sound almost immediately ceased, and I dashed into the only room that I had not previously entered. The restroom.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The sink, I had discovered, was badly damaged. The handles that control the water pressure had been torn off, with no evidence as to where they were placed. If he took me, I told myself, at least the universe would continue forward. Even if I was stuck in this perpetual, torturous loop. There was a shuffling in the shower behind me. I prepared myself, turned, and pushed the curtain aside, reluctantly but quickly.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">He was standing there. He stared at me. My eyes, this time. I stared back. His irises still unique, blue and purple colors, just as before. I calmed myself, then asked

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Yes, little child?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">He shifted his glare to my heart, then back to my eyes, then back to my heart again. He repeated this until finally, his eyes rested on mine, locked in what appeared to be a staring contest. This frightened me. I liked it better when he stared at my heart.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">From this point, I was not sure what would happen. It was all up to him. The keeper of the universe. What a vile creature, I thought, to hold the fate of all of existence in his eyes.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“You can not win. You are destined to lose.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">A grin came over his disgusting face, and I was taken aback. He had not spoken before this moment, and I did not know how to respond. My heart rate increased drastically, my palms became sweaty, and the room seemed to become sweltering.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Nervous?” he asked, revealing his now sharp rows of teeth in a smile that seemed impossible, stretching across his whole face, and tilted his head to the side. I gulped down air. I was physically shaking, so much so that it was obviously noticeable by anyone around me, including him. Any thoughts I had that he might not see how truly scared I was were destroyed when he narrowed his eyes and began to laugh. It was a terrible, inhuman laugh, fitting for such a terrible and inhuman creature. That laugh, I knew, meant it had won, or at least, it thought it had. Perhaps I truly had lost.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">It took a deep breath after laughing, smelling me, then continued to stare. Silently. His teeth were hidden now, covered by his mouth, but he still grinned. His smile unnerved me. What was it doing? I stared back, clearly frightened.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:180pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I couldn’t take it.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">His eyes, that bear, his laugh, his teeth, his sudden transformation. It was too much. All of the images that I had pushed down and forgotten about forced their way to the front of my mind and it was just too much. I shook violently. Even moreso than before. I couldn’t handle it.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I breathed one last breath. A shaky breath. A broken breath. A deep breath. Then a single tear rolled down my cheek. This was all he needed. His eyes watched the droplet form at my eye, then slowly crawl down the height of my face, and finally fall to the ground and hit the hard, cold, tile floor.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“ <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-style:italic;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">No <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">.” was all I could whimper before he reached inside of me and tore out my heart, turning me to face the mirror in the process. I did not want to die. I did not want to become the keeper.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I saw my eyes one last time before the burning sensation from my chest overtook the rest of my body, eventually fading into scalding numbness. They were an interesting color.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:108pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#efefef;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">One eye was blue. The other, purple. <ac_metadata title="&quot;Yes, Little Child?&quot;"> </ac_metadata>