The Attic

Chapter 5 - Ascendance

Day: Three

Date:  March 1, 2012

Time:  4:59 A.M.

     It has always baffled me as to why I often woke up just before my alarm went off. I set mine to five in the morning today, and I wondered if I was the only one who experienced such phenomenon as I turned my very annoying alarm off seconds before it disturbed Camille who was peacefully asleep in my embrace.

                She liked me back.

                I needed to wake up to realize that my arm was numb due to her weight crushing it. Or was it the sensation that woke me from sleep? My attempt to bring it back to life by sliding it out under brought her to consciousness, moving under the blanket as her hand ran back and forth across my chest.

                “I’m going to make some breakfast,” I said as I tried to get up. She didn’t stop me and kept her eyes shut, lying innocently still on my bed as I got into some clothes. She must be tired.

                “What time is it?” she reached for her phone to answer her own question, “It’s too early, stay,” she smiled.

                I declined. I needed to make some breakfast or she’ll be breakfast. Those legs that brushed against mine as I tried to get up were so inviting that I’d spread them before the sun even rose.

                I was still sleepy as I walked down the stairs. I imagined that the sun wasn’t up yet, for the shade of blue I saw through the window was a dark one still. My agenda for the day was to redo the plate that stupid priest ruined. He was so religious that he mercilessly watered the plan I worked very hard on. Does he not know that it wasn’t easy to design a cathedral?

                Raiding the freezer, I found some bacon and less than a dozen eggs by the chiller. I didn’t know whether she liked them scrambled or sunny sided up, but I didn’t want to shake her from her dreams just to ask her. I took a leap of faith and cracked the white shell over the oiled skillet, watching the yolk ooze out.

                I was about to withdraw the cooked bacon from the fire when I heard the return of the symphony of chains. Heaving heavily, I closed my eyes a moment until I was sure I was hearing it.

                The occurrence was very familiar for I was in the kitchen when I dreamt the footsteps, only this time, I need not pinch myself to realize that I’m well awake. It’s really happening again.

                Slowly, I turned around, leaving the latest batch of strips to fry themselves up as I sensed a dark presence. I didn’t know the reason as to why the fluorescent flickered, but it did aggravate the already loud thumping of my pulse.

                Not knowing what help it could provide against something I could only hear, I wanted to grab a knife from the stand, but I was discouraged by the sound of footsteps as its owner seemed to walk faster when I was about to raise a knee. The sound didn’t cease, continually tormenting me mentally as its echoes appeared to be bouncing off from the walls of the corridor that lead to the kitchen.

                It’s coming.

                I couldn’t feel my muscles, as if I was anesthetized from head to toe, only those that controlled the movement of my eyeballs remained functional. It would make me a sissy to scream, but it was such a strange coincidence to be ignored, now that it has followed me twice in real life and has haunted my dreams as well.