Old Scratch – Day Three

I didn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t face it. Hourly coffees, keeping all the lights on. I’m exhausted, but it’s worth it not to see him.

It didn’t make a difference.

He was here.

It was around 3AM. I was trying to keep myself, in the kitchen, making another coffee. The slow rumble of the boiling water in the kettle was soothing, and I leant against the counter, hoping the sunlight would arrive soon.

“Little fawn…” My skin was crawling. The voice was so close, right in my ear. I could feel his breath against my neck.

I turned to face him, but there was nobody there, just the kitchen, as it should be. Just me, all alone.

Am I losing my mind? Maybe. I don’t know at this point. I can’t be sure of what’s real and what’s not. I can’t understand what I’m seeing. Do you know what I mean? (Is anyone even reading?) I don’t know why he’s here. I don’t know what he wants from me. I don’t know who he is.

I’m back in my room, sunrise is still hours away. I’ve got more coffee. The silence is infuriating but comforting at the same time, because when the silence comes, I am safe, for a moment.

I need sleep, but I fear it. I don’t know if it even matters. He’s everywhere now.

I’ve just looked down and seen his nails, slowly sliding down my legs.

Here come the scratches.

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