Fear

Storm woke up covered with sweat, her deep ragged breaths as heavy as an athlete who just finished a race.

She quickly sat up on the bed, and took cognizance of her room. It was empty, void of anything strange or different. It was her room untouched.

She let out a deep breath, and took a swipe at her eyes with her right hand, as if to clear the remaining sleep in her eyes.

Swinging her right leg off the bed, she sat at its edge, her eyes slipping to the clock by her bed stand as if on cue.

Three thirty am.

It was still early.

She wanted to return to sleep, but couldn’t find the will. And so, she stood, tentatively at first, looking around her room, her eyes training on her closet.

Could something be there? She wondered fearfully, gulping down saliva.

Slowly, she took steps to the closet, her senses attuned to her surroundings, in case there was a slip up in anything or anyone that was in her room.

She was afraid, yes. But she wanted to know. Her hands stayed for more than a minu