Tea Before Bed

I watched with anticipation as my parents stepped into the taxi that would soon take them to the airport. With a rehearsed wave and smile, I waited for the vehicle to drive away out of view, leaving me delighted to realise that I would be home alone for a week. Granted; it would be a a short week, having just finished the first half of my GCSE exams. But this short holiday would allow me to regain the strength and motivation which had slowly been squeezed out of me during the exam period.

As soon as all the traces of the taxi containing my parents disappeared, I pivoted round and threw myself through the front door of my house, launching myself onto the sofa where I would go on an exciting Netflix, and gaming binge. what? You thought I’d actually use my time wisely this week to revise for incredibly important exams?

My plan was to spend so much damned time staring at screens that week, that my eyes would practically melt into mush and puddle in my sockets. I mean, you can’t blame me; I was a lonely guy who would keep myself to myself, leaving me with few friends who I could waste the week away with. This coupled with my disgust for revision left me no choice but to learn how to have a good time on my own by beginning the habit of staying up late playing video games and occasionally drinking from my parents stash of various alcohols. The following week would be no exception to this habit.

I started by scrolling through Netflix for about ten minutes before giving up. This was time I could have easily spent learning why Hitler decided to remilitarise the Rhineland for my upcoming history exam, but I decided to instead fire up my game console and kick some ass on whatever game I would decide to play.

Before I knew it night came, and I began to feel the comforting arms of sleep beckon for me. It was about two in the morning, so I agreed with myself that I should probably go to bed. Jumping up from the sofa I had been one with for most of the day, I made my way to the kitchen to begin my nightly ritual before bed. I know this is weird, but thanks to the eternal generosity of my sweet mother, I was addicted to having a cup of tea every night before bed. Yes. I’m stupidly English as you can probably tell. Anyway, I would drink the tea she had left for me, quickly urinate and then descend into a sudden, and comfortable sleep.

I began by smacking the switch on the kettle which had already been filled with water and waited for it to give a satisfying click, signalling that the boiling water had been heated up to a suitable temperature. Pouring the contents into a cup already containing a teabag, I pondered whether I could bear to wait for the tea bag to finish unloading its flavour into the hot water, and came up with the idea to kill the time by going to the toilet while I waited. Normally, I would do this after drinking the beverage, but then again, normally I didn’t even make the tea, so I was fine with bending the rules a little bit.

Whilst relieving oneself, my ears pricked up to the sound of what I thought to be movement. The floors subtly creaked under pressure, making a sound which emanated throughout the house. Of course, being the skeptic that I am, I dismissed this believing there to be a logical explanation such as the house settling. Rookie mistake I know, but people are just too scared of anything nowadays as they fill in the gaps of details they cannot possibly know.

Dismissing the noise, I finished my business and returned to the kitchen to complete my glorious creation which had settled to a pleasant temperature while I had been absent. With an excess of caution, I removed the dripping teabag and dropped it into the bin, before returning to finalise my masterpiece by adding a small amount of milk. Without hesitation I gulped down what I would soon find to be a below average cup of tea, but it did its job and satisfied me. It didn’t take long for the drowsiness to set in, causing me to plummet into a deep sleep without much notice.

As usual, my eyes would detect the light seeping in from my bedroom window, signalling my brain to open my eyelids so that my eyes could bask in the glory of daytime. My head pounded with an uncomfortable feeling, but I thought this was nothing a glass of water and a bit of breakfast could shake off. With determination, I sat up in my bed causing it to shake and bang off the wall slightly like it normally did every time I got up. I then planted my feet on the floor next to my bed and focused on the noise my feet made, slapping the floor and resulting in the response of the wooden floorboards creaking slightly. I don’t know why, but I liked to observe every noise I could hear when waking up. Must be my way of taking the step between the dream world and reality.

The day went by as normal. There were no bed bugs, no murderers, no demons…Just a normal, boring, run of the mill day where I found my self performing my nightly ritual once again at two in the morning; smacking the switch of the kettle, waiting for the click, pouring its contents into a cup and going to the toilet once again. Before I began urinating, I heard the sound of a disturbance through the house once again, but this time I decided to investigate. Curiosity killed the cat. I could not hear the strange sound while I was walking through the house causing me to start to believe my theory of the house settling. However, right before I returned to the kitchen I heard the noise once again, but louder and more sudden, leading me to jump slightly. My heart rate increased significantly, though it soon decreased as I laughed it off, believing I had just been startled by a rat beneath the floorboards or something of a similar nature.

My thoughts soon returned to the cup of tea I was in the process of making and I decided to just finish it off and go to bed. I gathered the milk from the fridge and placed it next to the cup, preparing to pour some into the liquid. As I looked closer at the beverage, something caused me to stop dead in my tracks. On the rim of the cup and sprinkled on the work top next to it was a peculiar white powder. Did I add sugar into my tea? I hated tea with sugar. I screwed up my face in disgust and excepted defeat, draining the unappealing liquid into the sink before heading off to bed once again. It took a while, but I eventually managed drift off into another deep sleep.

I awoke in darkness and felt strongly uncomfortable. My bladder was crying to release its contents and it did everything it could to make sure that I would decide to satisfy its pleas for help. There was absolutely no way that I would be able to fall back asleep in this state, so I decided to resolve this matter. I got out of my bed and met some resistance I thought to be my body still half asleep. My desire to relieve myself made me ignore this along with the predictable sounds I made to the surroundings when climbing out of bed I mentioned earlier, and I stumbled to find the light which once turned on, would allow me to locate my door.

Closing the door behind me, I began my journey across the hall towards my destination, but something caused me to forget my discomfort and prick up my ears. A muffled cough. I cocked my head to the side in confusion, running a million questions through my mind. It only took seconds for logic to hijack my spiralling thoughts, and my eyes widened in realisation. Prior to my mind collecting the words to form the sentence that lay jumbled in my head, my thoughts ceased to once again focus on what I was hearing. The subtle bang of my bed hitting off the wall. The creak of the floorboards, following the slap of bare feet on top of them. This time I did not think. I had to get out of there.

I covered my mouth with my hands to prevent me from crying out, and I creeped stealthily towards my parents bedroom in search of refuge. The hall was illuminated by moonlight, so I was able to see most of my surroundings, letting me find my way through the house I thought to be vacant. Slowly, I entered the room and lowered myself to ground, allowing me to slip underneath my parents large bed. The door to my parents bedroom was positioned so that when open, I could see the hallway which had my bedroom at the end of it, out of view. I cannot even begin to describe how my body shook as I lay idle underneath the vast bed, anticipating the visit from the houses second resident. I could not let this creature find me. Whatever its reasons for being here, whatever motives it possesses can only be of ill intent. So there I lay, waiting for what I thought to be inevitable.

The tension felt like a dagger penetrating the deepest corners of my skull, and just as I expected, I began to hear movement down the hall, coming from my bedroom. My eyes were flooded with tears which could burst the dam of my eyes at any moment, and I almost weeped as I saw the light source coming from my room steadily flood through the hallway. In the time it took for the light to fill the hallway, the light retreated back until it finally disappeared with the click of my bedroom door. It was now in the hallway.

I needed to think of something. Escape the house? The doors were locked and I had forgotten where I had placed my keys. Call my parents? Or better yet call the police? My mobile phone was in my room. I was like a fly tangled on a spider web, with no options but to await my predator locating me. And then a glimmer of hope struck me. The house phone! On a charging port downstairs resided a dated, yet useful phone people would call when contacting my mother or father. The only clear option I had was to go downstairs, take the phone, call the police and hide. But this would all have to be done whilst avoiding my aggressor.

I thought how I could slip downstairs unnoticed, however I was interrupted by a pair of ghostly pale legs and feet coming into view down the hallway. Each step was slow and sudden, yet minimal noise was produced. With every step it took, my hope began to fade once again. Because of my chosen hiding spot, I could only see its naked legs and feet strolling closer and closer towards me. This was enough to install fear I thought to be impossible within me. The fear of death or worse.

Like a blood hound searching for its target, it entered my parents bedroom and began searching the room. Its feet were right in front of my eyes, allowing me to see the rotten toenails which I presumed to be yellow with decay - although I could not confirm this with my limited visibility offered by the night. The creature stopped with its feet almost touching my face, resulting in me feeling a warm sensation trickle down my leg and pool onto the floor with a dripping sound. I had forgotten I was desperate for the toilet. Following this sound, I could hear the creature halt its quiet, yet noticeably raspy breaths, and without warning, it wrapped its hands into a tight grip on the bed. Its fingernails where similar to its toenails: rotten, yet they were pointed like small daggers, yet unlike claws. It placed its knees on the floor, and what I thought to be a chin steadily began to come into view, followed by a mouth with split lips with skin peeling away from it. "This is it," I thought, "Our eyes are going to meet, and its going to tear me to shreds right here under my parents bed!"

But before I could sob, I heard a loud vibration from my room. My mobile phone. With seemingly inhuman speed the creature jolted its head in the direction of the noise, and then scurried away towards it. This was my chance. As soon as I heard my bedroom door slam shut, I bolted for the stairs, making as little noise as I could, and made my way downstairs where the house phone sat waiting for me. I clutched it harder than any object in my life, and once again, lowered myself to the floor where I would slip underneath the dining room table for temporary sanctuary.

I almost couldn’t type the digits into the phone to contact the police, as my hands were drenched in sweat and shaking with fear. Determination allowed me to succeed, and soon I was speaking with a hushed but desperate tone to an operator on the other end of the phone. I told them all the details of the situation and where I was located, and they told me to hang tight and stay on the line. While I was talking however, I did not notice the sound of steps descending the stairs, and I only noticed before it was too late. I was stupid enough to stay frozen, still holding the phone with a screen which penetrated the darkness with a faint light; a beacon signalling my location.

The silhouette of a figure shrouded in the inky black cover of night stood tall and faced towards me. Its posture was crooked, yet its form was strangely humanoid. I didn’t stop to observe for long, dropping the device in my hands and sprinting for the kitchen. I didn’t have the guts to look behind me, but I could hear it pursuing me, tracing my every step towards refuge. I slammed the door to the kitchen behind me and continued to sprint into the adjacent utility room, closing whatever door I could find behind me, and leaping into the toilet where I would lock the door behind me. I was now trapped, waiting for what seemed like an eternity for the police to arrive.

The bathroom was incredibly dark, to the point where I couldn’t even see my hands even if I held them directly in front of my eyes. All I could do now was listen. Sure enough, the sound of bare feet slapping the wooden floors was accompanied with the sound of various doors creaking open in a slow and disturbing manner. I placed my ear against the bathroom door, hoping to soon hear the sound of my front door being caved in by the police, but instead all I could hear was the sound of footsteps getting closer and closer.

Suddenly, I heard a long and steady scrape coming from the other side of the bathroom door, as if the creature was running its fingernails through the oak wood of the door. I recoiled back in terror and began to whimper and shake uncontrollably. It knew I was in here and was toying with me. Playing with its prey. “Open the door,” whispered a heavy voice from the other side. I wanted to scream, yet all I could do was whimper like a coward. “Open the door,” it continued with an increased volume. “Open the door. Open the door. Open the door! Open the door!” It started to hammer its fist against the door. Feeling every tremor growing with more and more power, I began to scream whilst the door popped in an out like the beating of a heart. “Open the door!” Screamed the creature. Soon the door could withstand no more, and it ripped out of place, caving in on top of me. As I felt the weight of the door come down on top of me, my senses faded and I blacked out.

I awoke surrounded by flashing lights and concerned neighbours looking down at the sorry state I was in. Wrapped in a towel in the back of an open, idle ambulance surrounded by police cars, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, realising my nightmare was now over. My senses retuned and I listened to the commotion of the crowd and turned my head to see a couple of police officers who were engaged in conversation. “When we showed up to the property all we could hear was screaming and shouting inside the house. We busted down the door and found the kid on the floor in the bathroom crushed under the door. There was clearly a struggle, but there were no signs of an aggressor at all!” Explained one of the officers. The other officer just stood there and listened with a shocked expression on their face, nodding along.

I then shifted my attention to the paramedic who had realised that I had finally come around and began comforting me. She handed me a flask of tea and told me to drink it so I obliged. I held the flask in my hand, allowing it to warm my hands before I gulped it down my incredibly thirsty throat. The feeling of the liquid sliding its warmth down my oesophagus and into my stomach was extremely satisfying, but something was wrong. The taste was unlike any cup of tea I had drank in my whole life.