Careful What You Wish For

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Written by David Neve
Sunday, 16 March 2008

Sweat was beading up on Daryl's forehead as he slowly walked down the dimly lit hallway. Painfully aware of his footsteps as he tried to creep quietly down the hall, he stopped to listen. Heavy breathing. He could hear heavy breathing; he could feel heavy breathing on the back of his neck. As panic overwhelmed him looked quickly in the direction he came from and saw nothing. Nothing behind him but hallway and doors, for as far as he could see.

He didn't know what he was running from, or how he got here; he just knew that he couldn't afford to let it catch him. He continued almost crab-like down the hallway with his back pressed against the wall, trying to fight that same feeling he had as a child alone in his bedroom in the dark.

It was that feeling that whispered in his ear that there was something evil, something terrible, trying to get him. Not just the feeling that he was being followed or stalked, but this was something more akin to being enveloped, swallowed - it was all around him, just waiting for him to lower his guard so it could eat his soul. He couldn't outrun this monster. He had always known that, although he would never stop trying to. It was something that he had to be stronger than.

But memories didn't matter right now. It didn't matter to him that he couldn't see real danger; couldn't see what he needed to run from. All of the logic in the world could not let him stand still and wait. He had to find a way to escape from the monster, knowing all the time that there was none.

He continued down the hallway trying every door to see if it was unlocked, acknowledging to himself with every attempt that he lacked the courage to actually open a door if he found one that was. He knew what would be waiting on the other side.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, harder and harder, slamming more violently against his ribs with every step he took. His head throbbed with the harsh rhythm of his tired heart, his tired soul. He knew he couldn't last long at this pace; something had to give.

Without warning he came to the end of the hallway. He touched the cold wall in front of him and turned around to face the direction he had come. Through the shallow light he could make out an outline, almost manlike. It stood more than twenty feet away, yet he could feel it's cold arms wrap around him.

Terror took over. He could feel his heart trying to burst out of his chest, his vision blurred as the blood seemed to fill his eyes. Every nerve cell that came in contact with the creature screamed out in pain, in agony. It was too much for his old body to bear; he wasn't strong enough. Maybe he was as a child, maybe then, but not now. Daryl Jackson collapsed to the floor.

* * * * *

"Hello, you must be Mrs. Jackson?"

"Yes, do I know you?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure. Daryl might have mentioned me. My name is Brian, Brain Shearwood; I worked with Daryl at the mill. He was a wonderful man, Mrs. Jackson."

"Thank you, Mr. Shearwood, you're very kind."

"May I ask... was it peaceful? I mean, Daryl was always afraid of how he would pass away. We talked about it often. I guess that sounds strange."

"No, not really, I think that's something that all of us talk about at one time or another."

"Yes, I guess so. He told me that he hoped that when he went to the good Lord, that it wouldn't be a car accident or something dramatic of that sort. He always said that when it was his time to go he wanted to peacefully go to sleep, and just never wake up."

"Well, you know, he always considered himself a unlucky man - never seeming to get what he wanted. He did pass away while he was sleeping. It's comforting to know that in the end Daryl got his final wish."

Copyright 2008 David Neve

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