The Witching Hour


It happened while I was lying in bed. It was a cold autumn night. I could barely hear the raindrops quietly tapping on my window. I was home alone. The kids were with their grandma and my husband was down south visiting family and friends.
I was just drifting off to a peaceful rest when I heard a strange noise. It was 3:00 in the morning. The hour of evil as my son loves to call it. Why that’s a thing, I have no idea. But lying in the bed with my senses at a 5 on a 1-5 scale, the 3:00 witching hour made things even more uneasy.
I glanced around my room but noticed nothing. My ears zoomed in at a supernatural force, listening for any faint sound that may be considered unusual. With almost perfect timing the heat kicks on, so my ears are forced to strain even more, as if that was possible. I heard nothing.
Not really knowing why I was startled and not being able to detect anything unusual, I start to drift off to the land of peace again. This time, it was undeniable. My eyes jolted open and I felt the knot in the thick of my stomach. I slightly opened my mouth to allow myself to breathe, quietly. I lay as still as can be, not wanting to make a sound.
The entire concept is weird. Obviously, if someone was in my room, why would my reaction to lay still, as if they didn’t know I was in there sleeping? Why wouldn’t I flail my arms and scream as loud as I could, like my life depended on it? That is a form of psychology I guess I need to learn. Regardless, I was stealth.
I heard his footsteps crossing my room. I could also hear my heart beat. I wondered if I was going to survive. Part of me questioned if I was going to succumb to a heart attack. My heart was giving me away. The thought crossed my mind that if a vampire was in my house, I was only enticing him with the way the blood was pouring through my body at that moment. I cursed my heart, longing for it to slow down, but definitely not stop.
I felt the weight of him on my bed. I squeezed my eyes shut. The hair on my skin was standing straight up. I was frozen in terror. My brain was telling me to run, but my body was telling me to be still and silent. I was immobilized. There was nothing I could do.
I felt his breath on my neck. A tear dropped silently down my face as my screaming brain started to pray. I was bargaining with God to let me please be okay. He was breathing hard. I was breathing hard but silently. I was powerless to my fear.
He nibbled my ear. I whimpered. More tears were streaming down my face. He licked my cheek. I gagged at the thought of the way I felt so violated, but then, wait a minute. I recognized his breath. It smelled like beef and potatoes. I conjured up the courage to turn my face toward him. As soon as I saw his brown furry body lying next to me I started to laugh.
“Good dog!” I said. It was then that I fell back into a peaceful sleep.