Air

I awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for air.

The sunlight filtering through the thin curtains, pulling me from the confines of my dream and cementing me to reality. I had hoped that purging myself of more than half my belongings and moving to a tiny house in the middle of nowhere could help me get some distance from the dreams. As if clearing my life would in turn clear my head and keep me from being tormented by my own mind. Unfortunately, it seemed almost like the dreams were getting worse…

I sat up and accepted the fact that the night was over and there was no chance I’d be able to get back to sleep now. I climbed down the ladder from my loft, into my living room. I loved the layout of my tiny house; the living room was in the center and was bookended by my kitchen and my bathroom. The loft was above the bathroom. I had only been living there for just over two weeks but settling into a quiet country life was refreshing…if only the dreams would disappear like the crowded city noise had.

After having gotten ready for my day I stepped outside and onto my front porch, taking a deep breath of the cool, misty, morning air. The sun illuminating the tiny drops of dew left on everything from the night before. Here’s to new beginnings.

Day after day I got more and more stressed, trying not to think about the horrible events that led to me accidentally killing a man. I know that I didn’t technically kill him but if I had done more… done something more maybe… maybe he would still be alive. I never thought he would’ve had me in his will though. What are the odds. I was at least partially responsible for his death and he left me twenty thousand dollars. God help me.

That’s what I was plagued with. Recurring nightmares of that night. The night James died; God I should’ve done something! I physically shook myself to stop the never-ending cycle that had been haunting me for months now. I worked all day until I physically couldn’t anymore. I was putting together a greenhouse although being terrible keeping plants alive. Maybe it was all just busy work to keep my thoughts at bay. Haunted. Yeah definitely haunted, by my own guilt.

The sun was setting, the purple and orange sky lighting the field behind my new home, it had felt like the day slipped away from me. I had gotten so much accomplished on my little project it was nearly finished. I must find another project soon. My new property had plenty of space, at just over 20 acres there was more than enough things to do to fill my time… And my mind. I started back towards my home, which sat almost dead center in the middle of my fully fenced parcel. Fields out back stretched nearly to the property line and then BLM land full of dense trees surrounded three sides of my domain, with the front yard being scattered with trees and foliage from the road up to about 5 acres in. secluded just like I wanted. No prying eyes or opinions about how I need therapy or need to “get out more” I’m living in 280 square-feet and surrounded by nature and nature alone, how much more out could I get?

Reaching my front porch, I noted a small package wrapped in a dark brown paper. No return address and just my name scribbled clumsily on the front, Thomas.

I cautiously kneeled and picked it up from its spot on my doorstep, slowly ripping into the packaging. I felt as though I'd been punched in the stomach and my face felt red hot.

The package was a little black book. Bound in fine black leather, the notebook was no larger than my palm and the crisp white pages were stained a dark brown-red with blood. It had belonged to James.

Who the hell?! I looked around frantically but saw no one, even the long driveway leading to the road looked undisturbed. Who the hell near here even knows my name? and how did they get this book? The book I had thrown off a bridge and into the cold water of the Willamette river before moving 100 miles away. I tried to regain my composure as I put the book in the back pocket of my denim jeans, walked up the stairs, and into my home. I gave a quick look around making sure there were no creeps lurking inside. I grabbed a beer from my fridge and headed back out front with a lighter for my firepit.

There were no sounds other than the river on the other side of the road and the crackle of the fire as I sat and watched the small black book burn slowly. James took that notebook with him everywhere and it was his blood it was desecrated by. How the hell did that book get here? Haunted was right. Somebody had to have seen what I did and fished the book out of the water… to do what? Follow me through the rest of my life and torment me. No thank you. Burning the book seemed to be the only option. So I sat and watched as the pages chard and shriveled up until they were nothing more than sparks in the wind. I took another drink and looked around, the sun had set and I was enveloped by darkness. The only light being the eerie, orange glow of the fire before me. What sliver of moonlight there had been was now hidden behind a thick mass of clouds. The shrunken twisted cover was all that was of that damned black book. Gone for good. Thank god.

Twenty thousand dollars. I didn’t want that money, hell I had barely known James for more than six months. Business partners and friends but I didn’t do anything to help him. I just stood there. Watching him bleed out on the pavement. I didn’t pull the trigger, but I might as well have. I took another drink and tossed the empty beer can into a nearby bucket. The wind had changed, this morning had been so bright and now a biting chill came with the absolute darkness. I jumped, taken by surprise as something moved in the bushes behind me, I looked but couldn’t see anything right away with the flickering light and constantly moving shadow I was casting as the fire slowly shrank behind me. The longer I stared though, the more I could make out what looked like a large set of dark eyes close to the ground and hidden in the brush. An animal of some kind most likely.

I went to walk closer to where I saw them, however by the time I had finished standing they were already gone. What the hell? I'd had enough weirdness for the day, so I decided to call it a night. At least my awful dreams were familiar. I put out the fire and stared up my stairs and into my home, the motion sensor lights activating and illuminating my path to my front door. Once inside I quickly got ready for bed and started climbing the ladder up to my loft. I froze, staring at my unmade bed. Everything looked exactly as I had left it except for a small, black, leather bound, notebook resting on my pillow. It looked exactly how it had when I had found it this evening. Okay seriously what the hell?! I jumped down, looking around for anyone and finding nothing. I ran to the door and looked outside, my movement activating the motion lights again. It stuck me then that until I had gone in to go to bed, the lights had remained off. Confusion clasped onto me and I slammed the door shut locking it and double checking that it was secure. This day had been so strange, first the book appearing not once but twice, in near perfect condition to how it had looked when I had dropped it into the river. Not a single burn mark, although I had watched the pages disappear before my own eyes. It was frightening that I had no idea what was going on, and no one nearby if anything happened. Somebody had to know, and they were messing with me. It’s the only thing that makes sense. I turned off the lights and lay in complete and total darkness until my eyes slowly adjusted enough to make out shapes, my breath catching in my throat. There at the foot of my bed was the head and shoulders of someone staring at me. I reached over and quickly turned on my bedside lamp, however the person disappeared with the darkness.

I cautiously creeped to the edge of my loft and looked over. The downstairs portion of my loft only barely illuminated by the light behind me. I jumped when I looked down before I realized it was my own shadow I was scared by this time. I let go of the breath I’d been holding and headed down the ladder. I flipped the switch for the downstairs lights and heard a loud pop as the bulb blew. Within seconds I heard a low gurgling sound and turned towards it. Filled with terror while coming to terms with what I was seeing. James. His round metal glasses frames sinking into his rotten flesh. The breathy rasp coming from him as he stood in my kitchen just barely five feet from me. I stumbled as I backed away, falling. He was gone just as suddenly as he appeared. I started scootching backwards, away from the place he had just been standing. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen. He was dead and yet he had been right there. Right in front of my eyes.

I stood on shaky legs and fumbled in my jacket pocket for my car keys, finding them just as the only light on burst. Running from the house as fast as I could I set my path for my truck and just wanted to get the hell away from here. The motion light not activating, I stumbled over the bucket from earlier and fell face first. Grimacing in pain I knew I had to be bleeding from my knees, I picked myself up and kept running. As I reached my truck the motion light came on behind me and I was greeted to my own reflection in the driver door window with James appearing to be right behind me. My hands shaking with terror as I tried to unlock the door, resisting the urge to look behind me. Unlocking the door, I jumped in and without hesitation I hurriedly turned the key over in the ignition.

“Work damn it!” I cried as the engine sputtered and stopped. I looked up at James. There was no way out. I was finished. My eyes watered and I closed them not wanting to know what would come next.

I awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for air.