Without something coming to our door again. I prayed we could ride out the rest of the dark without going through another incident. I found it quieted the vicious giggles that lingered by our house. To them, walking out wasn't a foolish decision. I would talk to the other survivors and there I would hear of many who simply walked out into the black, for one reason or another.
I would of course, after it would all be over. I couldn't fathom a cause to leave the safety of the candlelight. I tried to imagine what reasons a person would have for leaving their homes, and stepping out into the void. There were quiet moments too, which somehow scared me more than the screams and frenzied laughter, moments when the things outside went back to being stealthy, trying to sniff out their next victim, or try to lure them out if there were none to be found. They laughed as they tortured anyone unlucky enough to be outside, and when their victims cried in pain and begged for mercy, they laughed even more. Something, many something's, in a fit of lunacy, gleeful and crazed as they ran through the streets, delighted at the opportunity to be freely walking up here. Growls and laughter, maniac and wild, from the mouth of something almost human but not. There were other sounds too, sounds that I still think about when I'm alone in my bed. We sat in the light of the candle, our only protection, crying and trying not to listen. And so they laughed as they died, while sometimes describing their horror to listening ears. As if it were so painful, so unbelievably agonizing that their minds could not process it completely. They died horribly, begging for help and in many cases, laughing too. Screams from terrified men, women and yes, even children, were never far from our ears. Instead of lessening as time went on, the noises outside only grew. We couldn't trust the dead clocks or phones so we decided to trust our bodies, hoping that it would know. So we only ate when we felt truly starved. We were afraid to eat, afraid that we were eating too soon. We'd sleep for what felt like hours, sometimes even longer, and yet we had no way of knowing. Time, we learned, didn't work the same in this dark. But now that I've started, I do feel better. Not even to the survivors who experienced their share of it too. I've never really talked about what happened that day, not at length. I wanted to tell it all in one go, but it was getting pretty long already, and if I'm being honest, I guess part of me was stalling. I'm sorry for ending my first post so abruptly.
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