Mary's Worst Night

The lake in the middle of the woods was cold and silent ahead of Mary. She could not remember and didn’t know why she was there.
A thick, rolling mist covered the black, glass-like surface, but there were no signs of life when she looked for them.
She did not remember ever seeing this lake before.
The only sound that she heard was her own breathing. Then it became louder…and louder. Everything around her seemed to be breathing in unison with her… and toward her!
Trees, rocks, dirt…the lake. The water of the lake under the mist appeared to swell up with each breath she took and recede when she exhaled.
Mary tried to hold her breath and swayed where she stood, but couldn’t hold it for long.
But when she’d held it, everything stopped and dead silence returned.
A vision of being in the trunk of a car came to her and went away in a flash. Her teeth chattered and goose bumps rose on her flesh.
She drew in her next breath for as long as she dared and as she began to breathe out, like a machete slicing through a silk curtain, the bow of a boat sliced through the mist in the middle of the lake. The mist rolled away from it as if curling outward…escaping.
Mary could just make out the shape of…something… standing in the center of the ancient looking vessel. She could tell that there were no oars, motor or even sails.
The boat just came.
And now, Mary’s feet felt like they were cemented to the ground. She looked down at them.
A vision of a rusty handsaw came to her.
The rolling mist that had escaped the boat now evolved towards Mary and looking up, she saw that it was ten times closer. She ached to turn and run, but she was paralyzed with fear.
When she’d looked at the boat, she’d seen the thing that was on it and that thing had seen her!
Mary became dizzy and felt as though a hand had reached into her body and was squeezing her lungs and her heart. She turned her head to the left and then right and squeezing her eyes shut tight, she compelled herself to move.
And she ran.
She ran for miles and miles without stopping. Through the unforgiving thickets and brush that adorned the ground of the massive forest, through stinky, black swamps that crawled with bugs and snakes, over rocky terrain with steep cliffs.
She did not stop until she came to a beautiful meadow. It was green and lush and full of flowers and butterflies. Birds flittered from one tiny evergreen to another and Mary felt safe.
She rested in the tall grass and quickly fell asleep. The dreams that came to her were vicious and horrifying. She opened her eyes (ending them) and sat up. She thought of several people, screaming and running and shook her head to fling the thoughts away. She understood that it was only still a part of her dream left over.
She glanced casually around the meadow and then her eyes took her to that spot where she had left the forest.
All feelings of safety and security melted away and Mary’s eyes burned with tears. The thing from the boat was there, standing at the rim of the forest scanning the meadow and shimmering with hatred in the fading light of day.
Mary put her head down and tried to hide within the grass around her. Tears fell onto her hands that were clenched together in front of her.
Footsteps sounded loud and true not far from where Mary hid. She dared not move.
A loud clicking sound forced her to look up. The “thing” turned out to be some hideous looking man whose face had no symmetry. His eyes were crooked and his skin looked blackened and melted.
She quickly looked away from his face, right down to the gun he held in his overlarge and extremely strong hand. A gun that was pointed directly at her. Spittle ran down his chin and he wheezed some words that Mary couldn’t understand and when he pulled the trigger, Mary fell out of bed. The bright morning sun blazed in through the Priscilla sheers that fluttered in the breeze of her open bedroom window and a car horn sounded in the street outside. Five seconds later, Mary had no recollection of her worst night and got up to put the coffee on.

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