May's Workshop Stories

Sounds in the Dark- Prompt 3

Darkness has always been my faithful companion. However, when I heard clawed feet scraping against the floor tiles, I couldn't help but wonder if it had turned against me.

It was just another ordinary day. I had just chased away one of my overly helpful friends, one of those who think that the best present for a blind person is a decorative figurine of who knows what. The thing is so horribly shaped that I couldn't even feel it properly.

They didn't seem to have any idea of how frustrating it was to possess something in your home that you have no way of telling what it is or where to put it.

As expected, after dealing with tiresome friends I wanted to take a nap, to reset my brain from all the unsolicited and useless advice which seeing people are so prone to sharing. However, I was soon startled out of my relaxed state by the sound of claws tapping on the floor hurriedly.

That would've been okay had I had any pets, but as it was, it caused my heart to skip a beat. What kind of a creature can climb the tenth floor?

Cautiously, I opened my bedroom door and felt my way towards the living room across the hallway, where the sounds seemed to be originating.

On the way there, I almost broke my neck as I hit a low table, which Mara must have moved while cleaning the house. It made such a loud bang that I froze in place, waiting for something to attack me.

When nothing happened, my annoyance with my friend resurfaced once again.

"Cecily, you need a tidy home. This is unhealthy," she had said.

What I needed was not to be attacked by my own furniture. However, Mara seemed to always forget that shifting my things around is equal to trying to cause me harm.

As I zeroed in on the spooky sound, similar to the one of nails on the chalkboard, I realized that it was originating from the low shelf next to the balcony door. The same one on which Mara had decided to put that ugly figurine.

I felt my way around the shelf tentatively, only to notice that the firm figurine with sharp lines was substituted by something softer and rounder. It was something that felt very much alive.

"It was impossible for it to come alive, wasn't it?" I thought, shuddering at the very idea.

My problem with being blind has never been about not being able to do things or anything like that. It is about having an overactive imagination that often has some crazy ideas about what my surroundings look like.

As I tried to get a closer feel of the odd feathery thing, it moved away from me, something flat and fluffy hitting my hand.

A smell similar to that of wet feathers hit me, and I realized what it actually was.

The ugly gift didn't come to life, but a bird of some sort had flown in through the balcony door and demonstrated its dislike for my friend's present by knocking it to the side and taking its place.

As my heartbeat returned to normal, I promised myself that I would not allow my so-called friends to help me anymore. All that seeing people have done for me so far was make things worse in one way or another.

"That was close," a screeching voice said. "It's fortunate that humans are so easily fooled."

The words were followed by the sounds of fluttering wings and the echo of malicious laughter that was gradually fading away.

I was left in utter shock. My senses were processing what had happened for far longer than it was normal.

Consequently, I was less and less sure that what I touched was a bird. It was something far more sinister than that.

Nevertheless, the question remained, was the voice real or had my overactive imagination been playing tricks on me yet again?