LEA

As I'm driving home, everything just gets more unnerving. Building after building, every one of them looking like they have been decaying at an increased rate. Occasionally, a section of the road starts to deteriorate, causing me to swerve to avoid wrecking my tires on it.

No cars to avoid anyway, I guess. But even trying to be optimistic feels just wrong. How in the world can I even think about little victories when the whole world is a mess. No people. And now it's decaying?

When I get home, I go straight to my room, and grab a book. I'm three-quarters of the way through it, but I can always get another book from my shelf. It's packed with all sorts of books, some of them new, some of them I've already read.

Maybe I'll just read until the world comes back to normal.

The day passes slowly, considering the fact that I'm checking the time every thirty minutes or less. How could everything be so normal, and yet not? I could spend the whole day in here, not knowing how much time had passed, and no one would say anything. No one would come in and check on me.

I put my finger in my spot and close the book on it. My brown eyes want to stay shut forever, and I lean against the wall. The light filters through my eyelids, and I squeeze them tight, until little stars appear.

When I open them again, the lights are all off. My heart beat seems like it stops for a second. Then it starts to hammer against my chest. What now, what now, what now. Its rhythm runs over and over in my head.

Something slams against the window and I scream, dropping my book and getting away from it. That sounded like a hand. The thought gives me some type of hope, even though my heart is still racing. I'm still staring at the window when the lights flicker back on, although they seem shaky.

There's a note on the window, written in hurried, scribbly handwriting. And it says one word: Run.

Then the lights go back off. And the door to my bedroom starts to open. I back up against my bed, sliding around it towards the window. My eyes are glued on the door as it pushes open farther and farther.

Labored breathing seeps into the room, and it terrifies me. Those breaths aren't human. I just know they aren't. Shuffling footsteps, and I hear the door hit the opposite wall. Then all of the sounds stop. And it's infinitely worse. Do something. Say something.

The hallway light turns on full brightness, and I squint. Then my eyes focus, as if I had just put glasses on for the first time. And I see the figure in front of me. It's hunched over as if it's too tall to get under the door without doing something to shorten itself. And it's eyes stare at me, burning green, like liquid poison.

My breath catches in my throat, and the scream that rises can't escape. But as if compensating for the lack of mine, the monster screeches, and charges forward.

My scream finally catches up with me, ripping through my throat. I lunge at the window, scrabbling madly to open it. The monster is inhumanly fast, and I feel sharp claws sink into my back.

Another blood-curdling scream escapes me, and it mingles with the screech of the monster. I get the window open just as the monster's claws release, and it starts to move closer, to be able to drag me back.

I want to shudder, thinking about what would happen to me if it succeeded, but focus on getting the window open fully. I hear a crack as I shove it open, but don't care. My back is on fire, and without concern for my own safety, I climb over the window and jump.

My legs buckle as I hit the ground, and my hands barely catch me as my face almost hits the pavement.

The monster screeches again from somewhere above me, and I get to my feet slowly. My legs feel weak, and my back screams for release of pain. But I stumble forward, getting into an awkward run. All that matters is I get away from this beast, monster, whatever it is.

My legs regain strength as I go further, although my back still feels like the pain might knock me out at any second. I try to ignore it, and tears stain my vision as I go further. Everything feels like it hurts, although I know it's just my back.

Eventually my lungs feel like they're about to burst, and I grab the handle of the nearest door, twisting it and shoving it inward. I fall on the rug, crawling inside and shutting the door quietly, dead bolting it.