Eyes Shut

I knew they would come.

My whole life, whenever I closed my eyes in the shower, I could feel them racing

across the earth towards me. Straining for me with their long, spidery fingers to wrap

them around my throat or their yellow nails to stab into my skin and bleed me dry,

down the shower drain and into the atmosphere. Ever since I was allowed to bathe alone

as a child, without my parents there to keep watch while I closed my eyes and rinsed my

hair, I could feel them. I could see through their eyes.

When I shut my eyes I saw them barreling across lands and oceans to get to me,

only to be sent back to where they came from when I rushed frantically to open my eyes

again, resetting them.

And when I did that, they grew angrier. I could feel how much they wanted me.

Hated me. How badly they desired to reach through the shower curtain and throttle me

for being in the blind darkness for too long.

But I always rushed to wash the water and soap from my eyes only to see that I

was still alone. That I was just being ridiculous. That these grim reapers out to get me

when I closed my eyes in the shower were only the irrational spooks of a lonely,

vulnerable, childish mind. The water rushing and drowning out any sound in the shower

with the curtain drawn. Alone. Naked. Nowhere to run. Is one ever as vulnerable as he is

in the shower? I hated to close my eyes and expose myself further. And yet nothing ever

happened.

Until tonight.

I remember rinsing my face. Slipping. And then darkness.

I woke to the now cool water droplets pelting my throbbing head. I was shivering

from the cold. I touched my skull where the pain was the worst and pulled my fingers

away to see the blood before it was rinsed away. I looked up for my towel but the water

hit my eyes. I turned the knob off with my foot, not daring yet to try and stand. As the

last of the water gurgled down the drain pipes and all went quiet, that’s when I heard

them.

I heard them breathing. Why were they breathing? They had no need. They

weren’t human. The only purpose could be to let me know I was right. I wasn’t being

irrational or immature. They were present now. It would all be over soon.

I heard one of them move closer behind the shower curtain. His joints popped as

if the bones within them were ancient. The ceiling light flickered and failed. I heard

more creaking and grinding bones inching closer, untrimmed toenails scraping the tile

and shuffling towards me as I lay frozen. I heard the curtain slowly pulled aside, its rings

clicking together one by one.

As they bled me, they offered no explanation, only sighing as if relieved.