Get Out by Ally Higgins

Get Out

by Ally Higgins

I stand before walls shredded by the years of feral loneliness–soddened by Mother Nature’s elements.

Splintered chair legs, fragmented steps on a grand staircase, ransacked and graffitied cabinets.

The living room couch is an outpost for insects. Unidentifiable debris litters the pulled-up hardwood floor whose nails bare like rusty teeth.

Mildew corrupts the air particles. An eerie silence carries through the house like a mellow Sunday morning.

I’m terrified.

My heart echos off the lacerated walls. Like the cold air, my blood courses through my veins solidifying my every organ.

Creeaaak. Moving gives me away, but I need to get out.

I’m trapped. I’m not alone. I know he’s here amongst the worms and the beetles and the spiders and the maggots. And me.

Goosebumps erupt over my skin. Hyperawareness rapidly climbs my spine as if each bone was a ladder rung. My hair stands on its tiptoes as if not to let me cower.

And I see him.

With eyes like a raven he is there.

The creaking of my shoes are muffled by my piercing screams.