Phobia: 4

With the covers tucked tightly around herself as if it were a shield of kind, Cybil lay awake in her bunk, forever staring at the white outline of the empty bed across her. Even in the dark room, especially in the dark room, she felt rather vulnerable, out in the open as it were. Her the hunted. With the hunter lurking out there beyond the reach of her vision, waiting, just waiting for her to fall asleep. Then, it would pounce. 

Hey fear kept her wide awake. She shivered in the lonely room despite the chugging of the ducts. If she only blinked, she could imagine the outline of the girl on the bed, watching her with that ever present smile. Sleep, Cybil. She mocked. Sleep.

Cybil blinked furiously, trying to keep sleep at bay, but she was only human. The moment she dozed off was the moment she was back on the cold ground. The heat of the autumn sun on the soil having left a while back. The crunch of the leaves sounded when Cybil moved, her head turning skyward. Tendrils of bare branches lined the sky over her head, like a ghastly halo against the dying day. She could feel the odd turn of her head, her chin pointed up, her head facing in opposition to her body. Cybil tried looking at her feet, but found no sensation below her neck. She could spy a bridge of some kind, somewhere up amongst the trees. A lonesome bridge, set high above the trees, or in between. She couldn’t tell. Where am I? The thought screamed. Next, Cybil was staring, once more at that grotesque body, the broken rag doll that it were.

A scream rose from somewhere in the distance, and Cybil was once more in the cold room she’d seemed out as if it promised sanctuary, screaming shrilly. The room felt colder. The moonlight had moved significantly across the walls, shining like a beacon on the white sheet, empty, calling across her. She rose, pulling the covers all around her. Her back pressed against the cold rendered wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. She rocked herself back and forth gently. Her eyes forever on the sight across the room. Soon, she started counting in her head, one, two, three, four. She could keep counting till the sun rose. Five, six, seven, eight… forever rocking back and forth. Her heart hammering away at an unknown speed. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Powered by

Up ↑


Everyday musings ....Life as I see space, my reflections and thoughts !!


Creating worlds out of words

The Bipolar Writer Mental Health Blog

A Collaborative Mental Health Blog


A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.

Paper Plane Pilots

Crashing into ink-stained purgatory since 2012.


A great site


Abecca's Art

Thomas M. Watt

Dream your Reality.

my personal thing

writings from an unknown

Feb's World

"My pen was a life raft in the middle of the ocean, it was the only place I could ever be free." - Pete Wentz, GRAY

Author Mark W Sasse

Writing. History. Drama. Culture. Life.

Kelee Morris

On writing, marriage, motherhood, romance and sex...

The writer's blogk


Eliot's Tears

original poetry, once a day


opening a window of excitement, enthralment and over all wonder.

To Write These Words Down...

Book Reviews and Adventures in Writing

Kate Dancey

Blog Paper Scissor

El Comfort Zone

Let Your Imagination Lead.


a new horror has arrived


The sound of a garden growing

%d bloggers like this: