The night is cold, and the small crack in my window affirms the weather side bar gadget’s assessment. My curtains are drawn, obviously, so I cannot tell whether the sky is clear or cloudy. There is an occasional rustling of the leaves outside. If I listen hard enough, I can hear the slight creaking of the swings at the park across the alley.
I want to go and look out the window. To peek and see whether or not the sky is cloudy or clear. To see whether the stars and moon shine brightly. To see, and not just hear the wind.
I get up and stretch from the uncomfortable position. No longer is the tall lamp high above my head, but my head at an equal level with the lamp. The colored light covers flash a mixture of tints across my face – some orange, a little teal, and an almost sickly sheen of green. I reach to turn the switch to put my room in darkness.
At that moment, there is a large rustling somewhere in the yard. A sort of rustle that you know is no leaf or plant. My hand freezes as a small fear buds in my heart. It is then that I hear the pitiful screams of some creature. Is it a dog? Certainly it is no rabbit. This sort of scream so very different from the sickening sounds I remember. I jump onto my bed and hold my knees to my chest as I listen.
The sound gets louder. The scream becomes a moan. Eventually, the moan burbles off into an ominous silence.
Reaching up, I snap the light off before I crawl under my blanket and try to stay warm and fight off the chilling feeling that was an accompaniment to my actual temperature.
I lie awake for a time. Thinking, like usual. As I wait to sleep, the sound of a siren sounds in the distance, a loud rumbling from the tracks fills the air.
The fan blows a cooling breeze across my cheek, stirring my hair across my eyes. I reach up to push it away.
Sleep is close now, and the feeling of ease spreads.
I fall asleep to the sound of the wind. Gently and quietly promising to bring a close to the evening and a welcome to the dawn.