Ten-Minute Write: Cowering

dark blackThe following day, we kept the shades drawn. Dim light crept around the edge of the yellow plastic. We cowered, our nerves still raw from the terror of the previous night, until Gretchen got too hungry to stand it anymore and went to the door.

I couldn’t shake the thought of the door rattling and cracking during the worst of the night’s gusts. None of us knew just how the phantoms worked, but they were in the wind somehow–we knew that much–and if the wind hit you, you’d be convulsing and transforming into a monster within seconds.

Gretchen moved the pale blue towel we’d used to block the crack between the floor and the bottom of the door. I didn’t like seeing the daylight there; I felt so vulnerable. If I could see out, they could get in.

Same with the windows. Those thin slivers of light worried me.

Gretchen looked back at us guiltily. “We have to find something to eat. We can’t just cower in here forever.”

Penny drew closer to me and pressed her mouth against my ribs.

“Just hurry,” I said.

Gretchen put her hand firmly on the brass knob.

We waited for her to open the door and face whatever was out there.

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