|Photo courtesy of Magpie Tales|
It was late, and darkness filled the room like death creeping in through the cracks in the old wooden floor. The only light was that from a candle on the vanity. The silence screaming inside her head was deafening. She suddenly had a strange, creepy feeling. Barely breathing, she moved her eyes left and right, peering into shadows. "I'm alone", she kept telling herself, "I'm alone. I locked the doors and closed the blinds before I came up here."
The old iron tub was quite the challenge to get up that narrow stairway. The workmen were cracking jokes about rich gals and bubble baths as they lugged it up the steps. She and her husband had bought the old house to restore, and the tub was one thing she insisted on. Now, alone in the house for the first time since they moved in, she thought she would enjoy a long soak in her tub.
But now she felt a chill even through the warm water. It was then she heard the first creak. It's an old house she thought, it will crack and pop from time to time. It's OK. In the hall, the floor creaked again. Fear began to settle into her heart. Maybe I'm not alone! She looked around the room, trying to see anything that could help her. There was no phone, and nothing to serve as a weapon. She had refused to keep a gun in the house. Only the innocent get killed with their guns, she had said. Now here she lay, naked in her bubble bath in a dark room, in a big empty house, with a psycho killer on the other side of the door. Maybe it's just a robber and if I stay quiet, he'll take what he wants and leave. Please, God, don't let him find me. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears she was sure he'd hear it. Then there was a footstep just outside the bathroom, and the rattle of the old glass door knob as it turned. The door squeaked as it opened slowly. Eyes wide open, she stared through the dim light toward the door. As a dark figure entered the room, something glinted in the light from the candle. It was a knife, the blade long and thin. The killer waved it menacingly at her. This was it. She would die here in her tub. Now, oddly detached, her last thought was "I'm glad I had a pedicure". She screamed one hoarse scream and slumped back into the now cooling water.
"Lily, wake up. Wake up, you were screaming." It was her husband, gently calling her back to reality.
A fictional story written for Magpie Tales #28