(my tribute to the gothic horror writing style of Ambrose Bierce)
A moment before an amorphous shape drifted into my bedroom; its preceding glow illuminated the darkness. A sudden chill filled my bedchamber, making my pores dimple like gooseflesh. My eyes widened in disbelief. The unmistakable form of an apparition floated just seven paces from my terrified soul! Like a cowering child; I desperately clutched my covers and sought the irrational security therein. My world was rapidly deteriorated into madness.
As much as I fancied the unfolding nightmare to be the product of an overactive imagination, I knew I was completely awake and lucid. I was no longer alone. Somehow the inanimate being before me had bridged the gap between the living and the dead!
It outstretched a ghastly finger and pointed directly toward me. I took the gesture to signify that I was the sole subject of it’s etherial visit. My panic stricken heart thundered in my throat. It continued to pound for the duration of the phantasmagorical confrontation.
Almost as quickly as it had arrived, my uninvited guest vanished back to the realm of the dead. While gone, it was not before leaving me trembling uncontrollably in a fetal ball. Only at the welcome glint of daybreak did I somehow manage to regain my composure. I sought to carry-on; with some semblance of normalcy.
In the rational rays of sunrise, false courage did its best to quell my state of agitation. That being said; I was still too rattled by the paranormal encounter to completely deny its truth. All the scientific reasoning in the world couldn’t dismiss the gut-wrenching terror I had experienced a few hours earlier.
For every internal argument I won, I had five others that were certain the haunting had been as real as my still-trembling bones. Had it only been a vivid dream in the landscape of the unconscious mind? Such an unnatural occurrence between man and restless spirit was never meant to be. Yet I had personally witnessed the illusive barrier to the great beyond, crumble.