Page 2 – Into the Night
I flinched and hesitated on turning off my bedside light, when I heard the manly laughter again and again. It wouldn't stop, and I began to feel like I was hallucinating. I wondered what or who it was.
Numerous questions piled within my mind, while I observed the room thoroughly as if I was a detective in one of those suspense movies that were trying to investigate a murderer's home. It honestly reminded me of a book I once read for the satisfaction. I allowed myself to keep a mental reminder not to read thriller novels involving serial killers for a lengthy period of time.
All of a sudden it stopped—rapidly and unbelievably—just as I developed into the appreciable laughter. I sighed for a moment not deliberating whether it would come back. In an odd way, I wanted it to be heard once more. Nevertheless the feeling didn't stay for too long and I was pleased about that. I dislike getting emotionally involved to people or things that happen to bypass my life, which is why I don't have many friends. I'm a solitary and observant person.
With that thought, I momentary look at the time; it was fifteen minutes after midnight, which was acceptable if it were the weekend. I acknowledged that I'd end up oversleeping and my alarm clock would naturally go off at 6:30 AM as the sound of buzz accelerates me. It was my customary waking up routine. I'm not a morning person, and everyone in my family knew that.
The time had past, fifteen minutes had gone and now I suspected the voice wouldn't be heard. I reached out for the light just to turn it off; a clap light would be handy right now.
As I reached for the light switch, which I didn't touch, mysteriously went off. I didn't know what to partake of the daunting incidence. For the first time in my life, I was frightened. I kept telling myself, "It's just a neighborhood block-out. Mom will appear soon and carry in a flashlight." I can't say I was helpless, like a damsel in distress but truthfully I was.