The Remains
“It came to me as a kind of whisper. Or maybe it just came to me. Maybe it just happened inside my head.
The cell phone went from vibrate to chime.
I thought I heard movement coming from inside the living room. I sensed movement anyway, the same way an expecting mother might sense baby’s first kick. Heavy booted feet shuffling against the hardwood.
My prone body was bolted to the bed. It wasn’t a bed at all. It was a concrete platform and I was bolted and chained to it.
Heart drummed triplets ag...ainst my ribcage.
Was my cell phone really ringing? Was this a repeat of two nights ago? Had a voice been spoken? Had it been whispered? Had it all been a dream?
“Rebecca.”
I listened. I must have heard a voice. The voice had personality. It was gruff and low. There were specific details to the voice. There was a smell that went with that voice.
The smell of stale cigarettes. I knew that smell, recognized it. Cigarette butts.
Eyes wide open, unblinking, I swear I saw a shadow. The shadow of a man staring back at me from the open bedroom door, as if someone were standing inside the open frame—a silhouette against the darkness.MoreLess
The cell phone went from vibrate to chime.
I thought I heard movement coming from inside the living room. I sensed movement anyway, the same way an expecting mother might sense baby’s first kick. Heavy booted feet shuffling against the hardwood.
My prone body was bolted to the bed. It wasn’t a bed at all. It was a concrete platform and I was bolted and chained to it.
Heart drummed triplets ag...ainst my ribcage.
Was my cell phone really ringing? Was this a repeat of two nights ago? Had a voice been spoken? Had it been whispered? Had it all been a dream?
“Rebecca.”
I listened. I must have heard a voice. The voice had personality. It was gruff and low. There were specific details to the voice. There was a smell that went with that voice.
The smell of stale cigarettes. I knew that smell, recognized it. Cigarette butts.
Eyes wide open, unblinking, I swear I saw a shadow. The shadow of a man staring back at me from the open bedroom door, as if someone were standing inside the open frame—a silhouette against the darkness.MoreLess
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