In The Left Corner

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A writer has a bad night.

Submitted: August 13, 2016

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Submitted: August 13, 2016

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In the left corner, from behind the filing cabinet, it stares at me menacingly. Tearing my eyes away, I resume typing my latest novel furiously, as if by beating the keys of my typewriter to death I can somehow kill it too. I can feel it lurking, waiting for just the right time. Pausing to read what I've written I sigh in disgust and snatch the paper from the machine. Gritting my teeth, I crumple it into a ball.

It's a damn good thing I am a writer instead of a basketball player. The wad of paper bounces harmlessly off the wall right next to it. It never flinches; it just keeps staring, maddeningly, horrifyingly staring. I whisper fiercely “Go to hell!” in its direction, and returned to my typewriter. Moving the machine and chair around so it's not in my direct line of vision, I continue my frantic assault on the keys.

“You know you just made a classic horror story mistake?" I think to myself as I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I argue with myself “Perhaps, but this isn’t a horror story, it’s my basement and I’m the writer!” I can still feel it, staring relentlessly and I swear I hear it getting closer. I stop typing, and I listen, waiting to feel its breath on the back of my neck. I whip around to catch it, and it's right there! In the left corner, staring at me from behind the filing cabinet.

"Daddy, it's time for bed! Can you come tuck me in?" I hear my little girl say from the top of the basement stairs.  "Sure honey, I'll be right up." I reply as I type "The End",  hurriedly rolling the last sheet of paper from the machine and I escape up the stairs. I carry my little girl to her room, kiss her forehead and tuck the blankets around her. "Daddy, have you seen my teddy bear?" I glance in the direction of the basement and with a shudder, "No, honey, but we can look for him in the morning."


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