Autophobia

The Window

A brisk thrust of frigid air from the open window in the kitchen prompts me to shiver. My skin prickles with goosebumps as my blanket fails to shield me from the cold.

While resting on the couch, I glance at the window -debating whether to go close it or not. It's the middle of winter and it's been snowing outside, so I probably should close it.

I try to move, but I feel immobilized.

Ugh, I hate being alone. It's almost paralyzing. I take a deep breath for five seconds, and breath out for five as well .

Breathing exercises.

I've been learning them along with other coping mechanism to try and relieve the feelings I get when I'm alone, and so far it works.

Well, mostly.

I sit up from the couch and peek around the wall that cuts into the kitchen. The casted shadow behind the kitchen wall caused by an eerie lamp light taunts me.

I gulp, my stomach twisting in a knot.

The shadows all around my house seem to parade and play with the theatrical melody of silence that sings at nighttime.

I twitch, peering around once more. Maybe I should take another deep breath?

I really hate being alone.

I rapidly snatch the TV remote and turn on the quickest channel in hope that I would drown out the silence. I'd get up to turn on the living room light but I have no motivation. I feel safe where I sit.

I inspect the TV as the news station plays. I raise the volume enough to rinse away the stillness but not enough to where I'm ignorant of any sudden noises.

I sigh, feeling better about my predicament of being alone.

Before getting comfortable, I recall the opened window in the kitchen and I whine in frustration.

Glimpsing at the window, I rub my arms to create warmth as I again debate whether to get up.

'Just do it.' I try to tell myself.

But yet again, my feet are accompanied by fluffy socks and my body with a blanket so I should be fine.

I begin to watch the news, nothing interesting, but it distracts me.

I begin to daze to a gentle sleep but another bitter drift of air from the open window wakes me.

I groan in anger and throw my blanket off me harshly, "Shit, fine I'll do it."

I stand, the floorboards beneath me creaking under my every step.

I hate these floors.

I reach the kitchen wall and swiftly flip on the lights, my eyes darting around the room worried. I breathe in relief once the room is clear and I peek behind me into the living room.

I hear the faint echo of the news reporters discussing normal things happening in my town.

Shuffling tiredly towards the opened window, my toe hits the corner of the kitchen table causing me to howl in agony and collapse to the ground. "Damnit!!"

I mutter a string of curse words as I clench my foot in my hands. "Why the hell does this always hurt so bad!"

I soon recover, slightly limping from the painful blow, and carefully reach the kitchen window.

Positioning my hands on the top of the window, I struggle to shove it down so it can close. My fingers sense a sharp tinge of pain from the windows brisk surface so I hastily retrieve a rag from the nearest kitchen drawer and I use it to shelter my hands from the cold.

'Why the hell is this not working??' I rage to myself as I begin to get irritated even more. 'I should've just stayed on the damn couch.'

I finally slam the window down, closing it, and forcefully shove the lock shut as well.

Exhaling in irritation, I mumble under my breath, "Stupid window."

I seize another deep breath to relax myself then gaze back over the window. I start to make sure it's entirely secure when something strange hooks my eyes.

Suddenly, I hear a click and an alarming noise coming from the TV as the screen shifts red and the channels alter.

Before looking back at the TV, I stay preoccupied staring out the window at what snatched my attention.

'What...?' My bones run cold as my breath is caught in my throat.

A figure shaped like a man but draped in darkness stands far off by the trees.

I silently tremble as my eyes squint to make out the image from afar. The rain of snow flowing down and layers of snow on the ground did well to hide the figure.

The TV begins to play the channel as I still stay looking out the window.

"Breaking news!" The news reporter exclaims.

"The dangerous and notorious serial killer, named The Grim Sleeper, is back after 13 years of hiding and has struck again killing two college girls while they slept soundly in their homes!"

I gasp, my jaw dropping, as I jerk my head towards the TV. 'No... he– he murdered my friend!'

'She was his last victim before he disappeared... How– how is this possible?'

With every word the news reporter speaks, the more my head starts to ache, and the more I begin to shudder.

My knees attempt to buckle when I remember the figure outside my window. I whip my head back towards the window and gape out of it desperately hoping I only saw a tree.

The news reporters' voices begin to slowly fade as every moment is dreadfully stagnant.

I gasp again even louder as I drop the rag I held.
.

.

.
The figure is much closer then before.
.

.

.

The floor beneath me starts to sway as my head feels hazy and my vision is blurry. My skin shifts to goosebumps and a cold sweat forms on my brow.

A tear drops down my cheek as I notice one thing.
.

.

.

There aren't any footprints in the snow.
.

.

.

The figure is a reflection.

.