Gone Without Luck

When I wake up, the cold is extreme. The roaring thunder shook the house with its fiery. I traced the bed for Lucky meeting the bitter night air. The thunder must have awakened us. I rubbed my eyes as they slowly adjusted. I glanced over the sides of the bed to find a pit of darkness. Strange. Resting my head back on the pillow, I called for Lucky to join me again. I hear nothing but silence. He must be sleeping on the couch. I called again, listening for the pitter-patter of his paws. No answer. Leaning towards my bedside table, I began searching for my phone. I felt again pricking my index finger on each of the corners. Since he isn't coming to me, I'll go to him. Annoyed at everything occurring, I exited my bed. The wooden flooring sent a shiver down my spine. I shuffled towards the light switch realizing the power was out.

Using the walls to guide me to the kitchen, I continued down the hall, mindful of the step into the room. Approaching the cabinets, I stroked the doors, heavily relying on my fingers. The drawer felt stuck as my curled fingers lightly tugged on it. I pulled harder in an attempt to unleash it. A whipping crack echoed throughout the room as the drawer fell. F*ck. I squeezed my knees and removed the drawer from my feet. Tears welled in my eyes. Taking a moment to regain my composure, I fumbled through the drawer. The cool touch of little cylinders kissed the tips of my fingers. As I did with my bedside table, I followed the edges of the drawers only to come up with batteries and a few tools I stashed away. Puzzled by the lack of a flashlight, I stood back up. This has to be the correct drawer, right?

Mulling over the flashlight, I remember my missing phone. Fuzzy memories of this evening began flooding in. The living room, I realized as I smacked myself on the forehead. Reattaching my hand to the wall, I slowly dragged myself across the slippery tiles. As I reached my hand out to feel the couch, a warm, wet sensation overcame my right foot. F*ck. Why didn't he wake me up if he had to go? I shook my foot as I snarled his name again. I knew he was going into hiding after hearing my harsh tone, but I couldn't care less about finding him at that point. Hobbling my way back to the kitchen, I tried to keep my right foot from leaving any more traces. Ugh. I need a shower.

I guided myself back to the mess with the roll of paper towels in my right hand, and my left extended further than before. Sometimes I can't help being this smart. I smirked to myself. Feeling the sturdy backing of the couch without meeting the warm puddle again, I kneel before it. As I wipe the dissipating warmth from the cold floors, I graze something with my knuckles. A trickling sensation was left in its place as I reflexively retracted my hand. My mind went blank. I tried to justify what I had just touched. Slowly, I reached for the thing. Did Lucky knock down a blanket? My hand glided across the indiscernible object. What do I have that's soft and firm? Continuing to explore, the room floods with light. For a split second, my blindness is gone. Thunder follows shortly after. I shriek in terror as I crash into the wall attempting to escape. My left ear begins to ring. I instinctively grab it while tears pour.

High on adrenaline, my flight-or-fight response brought me to my feet. I ditched the wall and began running back to my bedroom. Stumbling through the darkness, I narrowly missed the step separating my kitchen from it. With trembling hands, I slammed my door, locking it. Thunder sounds again as I enter my closet. Quickly closing that door, I collapse onto a pile of dirty clothes, I had foolishly left unfinished. Once again, I hug my knees with tears streaming down my face. Lucky was now reduced to a motionless pile on my living room floor. It must be a dream. The second of the door handle rattling broke my thought.

Terror shot through as I began trembling. I held my mouth, forgetting how to breathe. The doorknob continued to click over and over and over. As lightning struck, the clicking noise vanished. I sighed in relief, still crying. When I stood reaching for my closet door, an explosion of cracking wood brought me to my knees. My hand reflexively muffled my scream as the noise from the crumbling door replaced the clicking.