The Wreath nosleep

It was dark when I awoke that morning. A breeze chilled my flesh.

I was only asleep for a few hours, I thought. The window wasn't even open. I didn't bother turning on a light; I didn't want to burn my eyes. I strode downstairs to fix myself a much needed cup of coffee, not noticing anything out of the ordinary on my way. I stumbled down halls, assuring myself that I was a fool for not just going back to bed. I hadn't even seen the clock. It didn't matter at that point, anyway. I wasn't falling back asleep. The brightly shining moon illuminated my kitchen. I slithered across the long cold floor, dragging my feet the whole way. I felt my hand touch the surface of the countertop where my coffee pot had once sat.

That's weird, I raised my eyes curiously at the corner. I searched for seconds with my fingertips in an attempt to grasp the old familiar handle. Then I noticed how quiet it was. Disturbingly quiet. Not even a buzz of the refrigerator rang through. Nervously, I fumbled around the kitchen wall to the nearest light switch; I flicked it on...There was NOTHING!

I'VE BEEN ROBBED! I thought with a heavy strain of anxiety rushing over me. All the cabinets, the drawers were empty! EVERYTHING was gone! I ran through the house, making sure I was heard in case the robbers were still in the house, so they would know that I knew. But every light that I turned on revealed empty walls and rooms. Only large furniture was left. I hunted my phone everywhere!

Surely, I thought, I can call the police and get this whole situation under control! I looked and looked, high and low, between cushions, under chairs, even in the fridge. Yes, the fridge! One would be surprised at how often things might end up in the most obscure places. Still, I discovered no phone. And...Before I could close the door completely, I was sickened at another notion. No food. I leaned in with a silent panic. Not frantic as I had been just two moments earlier. Only...unsettled. The interior light never came on. And it was warm. Room warm. It hadn't been recently dismantled. It had been out for hours. Several hours to reach that temperature.

These guys were good, I took in a deep breath. I wasn't even shaking anymore. I was calm as a corpse. Thinking on that expression now seems...humorous. I went into my living room and sat in my recliner.

 Hunched inward I wondered, how could that have happened with me just upstairs? So quickly. So...easily. Nonchalant, even. Why?

I thought for a minute longer before realizing there was a possibility that my neighbors may have seen or heard something...Maybe they got hit too! One of them would have a phone for me to use, at least. I didn't even NEED the coffee anymore. I stepped outside. The moisture in the air hung as a crisp autumn morning would...but there was no breeze. It wasn't cold. It wasn't even cool. So where did the chill come from, I wondered.

I walked to my neighbor's house and knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked harder. Still, not even a shuffle out of bed. As loud as I was pounding, I'm sure SOMEONE must have heard. Nobody was coming. I left to try my other neighbor. As I passed my house, I saw the wreath on my door, and the garden was well lit and beautiful this season. I shook my fascination off and hurried over. When I got there, I saw an old woman rocking in her chair on the front porch. I called to her

Ma'am? I called. Ma'am, can you help me?

She just continued to rock. I walked up the steps and knelt beside her.

Excuse me. Ma'am? I repeated. I need to use your phone.

She seemed to be ignoring me.

I pleaded one last time, Ma'am; I need some help. My house was broken into tonight and I need to call the police. Can you help me?

She stopped rocking and turned her head to me.

You're beyond help, son. She laughed in her throat, turned back, and kept rocking.

Senile old bat, I thought. I got up and proceeded to knock on the door.

Someone HAS to answer! They just HAVE to!

I knocked harder and began to explain through the door, hoping to get a response.

Hello? I called out, Can you help me? My house broken into and I need to use your phone! HELLO? CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME??!!!

I knocked louder and faster...HELLO?! I cried, Will you please just open the door? I really need to use your phone to call the police! HELLO!!

I punched the door with a final sigh of frustration.

Careful, son, the old woman said holding a pink carnation now. She turned to me one more time, You'll wake the dead. She laughed hysterically at herself. I didn't have time for some hags jokes; I knocked ferociously now, repeatedly.

TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAPTAPTAPTAPTAP!!!!!

Until finally! The door opened everso slightly. That's all I needed, was for someone to BE THERE!

Thank you SO much, I began; all I need is to use your phone and I'll be gone!

There was no reply.

Excuse me? I opened the door  alittle more, Hello? I walked in.

No. I thought. No, that can't be. I stepped in a tad further. No. There's. There's no way. Absolutely. No. NO! I ran across the floor and flung open the curtains to let the moon's light in. It couldn't have been. It was impossible...But...It WAS.

I was back in my room. I was. But I couldn't have been. It was cold, again. But it couldn't have been. Was it?

I wandered back downstairs; everything was still missing. So I ran outside to see if the old lady was still in her rocker. She wasn't. I headed back to my house. And noticed...my garden. It. Wasn't. My garden...Then I looked at the wreath on my door! It...it was...black.

BLACK!? A wave of dread drown me into an ocean of sorrow as I walked back to the flower bed. It was well-lit by candles. Shining underneath a photo. Several photos. Of. Me. Pink carnations littered the "garden". I collapsed at the shrine. I curled into myself, imagining a rapid heartbeat of uneasiness with six words running around my mind...

"Careful, son. You'll wake the dead."

Submitted August 26, 2017 at 05:42AM by JGWillikers http://ift.tt/2wct4da nosleep