Young Writers Society

(A story of an instance of one of those superstition riding circumstances)

I dared not open my window for the day had been gravely chilly, it had been like this for several days.

I never presumed that a cold of this severity could betake this area, it's not like I lived on a hill. I lived just by the side of the road.

For this chilly wind, i had rejected any requests where I would be required to leave the house. On this particular Sunday, I had stayed at home, alone, doubtless it was due to the weather which affected me greatly.

Since my wake till now, I had lay on my bed watching the animations from my TV ever so interested. As I turned to my side to pick up the remote, in effort to increase the loudness, the power in the house ceased.

Now i was enveloped by a darkness. As the ease was coming to my eyes, I went over to my windows and pulled on the strings that raised the blinds. As the sunlight crept into my room, I could see how far the day had gone. The streets were not as scarce as they were a half hour ago.

I yawned, I stretched, then headed over to the mirror in the ray lit room. "I'm not a morning person", I murmured to myself. Then went over to the bathroom to dash a little water onto my face. I could skip all the morning procedure. After all, I was alone and it was just another casual Sunday morning.

I decided I was going to have a large breakfast, so I headed to the kitchen in a half blind motion. If I had not been familiar with the steps I would be certain to fall, particularly on this very weary morning.

Once I reached the end of the steps I saw in the house, a cat. Oh, the horrendous shock I felt for we had no cat, nor even a dog. My parents hated animals and I shared in their loathing of the kind.

The fear was at once overwhelming for I knew not what to do next, I just stood there watching the demon take its wicked strides. Where this creature could come from, I had no knowledge of.

Surely the doors were locked, the windows! Oh, it occurred to me that I had left the windows of the small cabin where our food stock was kept. The wind had deterred me from even going in, I only closed the door.

This malevolent wind has gradually in its fiendish ways led me to this situation.

I still stood there, as the creature had appeared not to notice me. It just lay facing the glass doors that led to the courtyard. Its head was slowly moving up and the opposite.

Suddenly, a new curiosity had struck me to know exactly what the animal had been so occupied with so as not to even take note of my being there. And with a mountain of the slightest courage, I took a step towards it, surreptitiously, then took two more almost simultaneously.

At this point, I knew the animal was licking. Something coloured red, I would not have so much certainty to it if the creature was not black, the darkest of the shades. Which charged my spite for the creature even the more.

Now I was torn between the curiosity that reduced my fear of the creature and persuaded me to know the object of its sole occupation, and the voice that spoke of an impending doom and suggested I run back to my room and lock my door with all my might.

Before I could decide what to do, the creature turned slowly, and just like in a horror story, it purred and meowed at me. Oh the horror.

Like it had delivered a message that was purposed to be directed to me. It slowly got up and took strides in the way of the kitchen. What strangeness.

I feared to follow its steps so as not to lead it on to believe in a friendship or that i was being amiable whilst I understood that I should not haul an item at it or hint aggression towards its proceeding action and therefore convey to it that it was still an alien in my household despite I did nothing to vanquish it.

So I just stood there taking care to watch it take its strides. And I remained at that position for several minutes, not knowing what to think of what had just occurred.

Then another mountain of courage emerged and I went forth into the kitchen, very cautiously I looked around. Observed every corner. And then checked the cabin, the window was still open, I closed it.

Now I knew, the creature was gone.

The message in this, I knew not how to extract. The animal was licking some viscous liquid I at first thought was blood but was then reassured that it was. Where this blood came from, I knew not.

Surely this was an omen. And the impending doom, certainly was directed at me. On realisation of this, I fell into a sadness more profound if i could say, than the depths of the sea.

What could this mean? And who was I to designate such a question to? I was left in a blizzard of thought as I retired to my room and the wind continued to howl on, as if in commutation of a calmness to the very punishment I ought to suffer.