☆ CREPUSCULAR ☆ |SUPERMAN & LOIS|

[11] ● Incident Of Hunger ●

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Sarah didn't wake by the usual sound of her mom or dad banging on her bedroom wall or calling her down for breakfast.

She was sleeping, her dreams being present filled with sweeping images of that one family holiday her parents had taken her on the year prior to the beach with the Kents farmhouse and Jordan.

It was like one moment there was peace.

Sarah was rolling around in her bed eyes shut pulling her covers closer to her body in an attempt to trap the warm air that had escaped her grasped from when she shuffled out of her sheets during the night.

The next she was up in her bed scrambling for her floor hands over head.

Like she was trying to duck for cover.

Her bed sheets being pulled off the bed behind her and pooling at her feet.

She stilled looking towards the noise.

It was a viscose banging noise of metal on flesh.

Heavy and blunt.

The sound that was loud enough to seem like it came from inside her house.

But Sarah knew running towards her bedroom door that it couldn't have been the case.

It was like there was a harsh line drawn between the fright that she was in and the carm nature that radiated from between the cracks of her bedroom door between the hinges and locks.

It was coming from inside?

No.

She looked frantically her eyes scanning her room

it couldn't have been.

That type of noise that sounded like a hammer on meat would be noticeable to her mom and dad if they heard it.

Sarah's head stopped, at her window, she noticed it shook slightly like the water that had been disturbed, rippling.

It was coming from outside.

Near.

She couldn't bring herself to call out for what reason she didn't know.

But the mere thought of whatever was out there, inside her house with her parents.

With whatever it could do to them, do to her.

But despite that it drew her in carving out every ounce of sense that she had built up over her short span.

Sarah crawled from the floor to her window peeked her head from under the window ledge.

That in the past had granted her a glance into what she had imaged as a child to be the city, the way that drunk couples would lips each other staggering through the alleyway that her window faced in combination with the evernesent lumanas lights that would flicker off the puddles when it would rain, it had previously reminded her of the vegas strip bright and colourful.

But with a hidden sense of misery in the darkness.

She saw the same now but instead of a bundled up couple with loose legs and chaste lips.

She saw a blue truck.

Old and dusty it was rocking on its sides.

With its wheels bouncing up and down.

Sarah squinted, wiping away the condensation that had gathered from her breath on her window, with her pyjama shirt sleeve.

What she saw could only be described as animalistic.