Agatha’s Breath

She felt her breath on the back of her neck, hot and wet in the darkest moment of the night.

It made every hair on het body stand on end, caused her eyes to whip open as her shoulders shot up to take company next to her ears. The steady noise of silence that often accompanied the night was a symphony all around het as she lay there, waiting.

She told herself if she could wait there for a moment, then a moment more, a moment still after that, she could forget just how many moments stood between her and the first light of morning. Just a moment more, waiting with her eyes forward, pretending her heart wasn’t racing and she couldn’t feel the hot, wet breath on the back of her neck.

It blew the hair forward across her cheek with each raggedy breath. Caused her heart to lurch up into her throat, making each quick breath a struggle. She couldn’t tell if her eyes were wide or not, it was difficult to tell with the tears welling up there, fogging her vision and spilling out of the corner of her eyes to pool on her ear resting against her pillow.

The terror was so familiar, in a way, it felt more like home than anything else she had ever known. She wondered, lying there in the dark, if anyone else knew terror the way she did.

Another breath.

Another jolt of fear that wrapped around her throat like a noose.

Was this to be her nights now? Plagued by this sickness that had so fully filled the depths inside her mother and her mother’s mother? Her sanity withering away night after night until there was nothing left of her there.

Another breath.

Her lips quivered as she slowly parted them. There were words there, trapped in her throat begging to be let out. If she could force them out, if she could set them free into the darkness perhaps-

Perhaps what? She wondered.

“Aren’t you going to look at me?” Her voice was a surprise she hadn’t prepared for. Her heart stopped, her body paralyzed as nothing but fear coursed through her veins.

“No.” The word could barely escape her lips in the dark, terror holding all her words captive deep in her throat. “No.”

“Look at me.”

Swallowing hard, she slowly lifted her hands to cover her ears. “No.”

Another breath.

She could try to shield her ears from her ragged voice, but they would stop that hot breath from burning the back of her neck.

Just another moment. She just had to make it another moment.

Reaching a shaking hand down, she grabbed the sheet from around her waist and pulled it up over her head. Under the protective cover of the sheet, a whimper jumped out of her throat, letting loose a sob as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Just another moment, she reminded herself as she took a deep breath.

Her hairs stood once again on end as the sheet slowly inched down over her. Clenching her eyes closed, she told herself none of this was real. Even when she felt the lightness of the sheet, that suddenly felt as heavy as cinderblocks, fall completely away, no doubt a hapless pile on the floor on the foot of her bed, she told herself none of this was real.

It couldn’t be.

Another breath.