It was a wet Easter morning. I glanced at the window, but it was still dark outside. Then I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand, put them on, and sat upright. The thunderstorm had woken me up. My windows were wide open, and the wind blew in the rain. There was no sign it was going to rain this heavily the previous night; it was so hot, I had to fold the curtains up and leave the windows open.
Sliding into my Crocs, I staggered to the window and a gust of chilly air rushed into the room. I surveyed the environment and took a deep breath before shutting the window and draping the curtains.
I knew there was no sleep left in my eyes after such an encounter with the wind, so I grabbed a book from the shelf and got back in bed. I hadn’t pulled the sheets over when I heard a faint knock on my window. I glanced at the clock on the wall; it was the devil’s hour. My neighbors lived a little bit far away, because my cabin was secluded from the others and the only thing that surrounded it was lush greenery and huge trees. There had never been cases of wild animals, so I was skeptical about what could be at my window at such an hour.
I ignored the knock and went back to my reading, and again, I heard it. It came as a tap this time. Thrice. Faint taps. It couldn’t be a branch from any of the trees because there was no tree close enough to my window. Plus, the trees towered over my house, so there was no way the wind could manipulate one into rubbing against my window.
I turned off my bedside lamp. It was the only light that illuminated the room. Then I got out of bed and pulled out a bat from underneath it. It was one of the things I inherited from my grandpa. He owned the cabin and willed it to me. While revamping the place, it was one of the few things I didn’t throw out.
Adjusting my glasses, I tiptoed to the window. It was pitch dark in the room, and the only thing that illuminated the space was the frequent flash of lightning. I pushed the curtain aside a little and scanned the area. There was no one in sight, but the shadows of dancing branches. I was about to pull the curtain shut, when a figure appeared from the woods and looked right in my direction. I froze. My palms were sweating, but I couldn’t let go of the curtain. I was fixated to the spot, fearing that if I moved an inch, it would appear in my room.
I held my breath. Dealing with anything that would sell me out to the predator out there. Then a thunder crashed, accompanied by lightning. It flashed on the figure. A hood on. Dark. Tall. Long hair. Of course ugly. I don’t know if I instantly became a necromaniac, but I kind of saw horns too.
My heart pounded, and I blinked back the tears that formed in my eyes. When I turned to look again, it was gone.
Terrified, I pressed my face against the glass for a proper survey and boom, it reappeared at my window. The only thing that stopped our foreheads from touching was the glass. My heart skipped two beats, and I begged God to take my life.
Like a hypnotized soul, I stayed put, my head still on the window. The figure spoke; “Goddamn it, Rachel, you sleep like a log. Let me in.”
“Elsie?” My voice is a whisper. “You got it right,” she grins. “Jeez, you’re pure evil,” I sobbed as I watched her take off her hood.
Elsie lives a few blocks away. She’s a very good friend and enjoys cooking me puddings, especially during Easter. It really skipped my mind that it was easter. Elsie loved easters. She always showed up at mines early. I guess the rain didn’t let me think straight. She really pulled that prank perfectly.
“Get out of your slumber, woman, and let me in,” she startled me back to reality.
I moved my feet. They must have fallen asleep, because they hurt when I stepped on them. As I walked to get the door, I thought of how to get back at Elsie. I will not let it slide.