Bad Waves Pt. II

[consequence]

It’s been months but I still can’t help but shudder every time I hear a bus outside my house. There’s no doubt in my mind they can get me. Even in my own home. The walls are too thin, a bus would tear this place open like a machete cleaving through a coconut. It’ll never happen though. At least not any time soon. It’s too early for such drastic and loud measures. Still it’s always wise to keep weary eyes on the window. To keep them honest if nothing else. I can see my Auntie out there now, carrying in a bag of groceries for me. You can see the strain on her face. Not necessarily from the groceries, but from life in general. First her husband dies tragically, then she gets evicted so she has to go and live with her sister and her son. Then a few years down the road her sister dies of breast cancer and she’s left to take care of her paranoid nephew. Life hasn’t been fair to her and you can see it in her face. Worry wrinkles and tired eyes crowd her otherwise kindly facade. If I were anyone else I don’t think I’d notice anything wrong, but the pain of living gets to her. Gets to everyone somehow.
Lord knows it’s been getting to me...

My paranoia has finally paid off. The b------- tried to get me in my sleep, but I don’t sleep. Actually it happened on one of my worst nights. Fits of hallucinations, monsters and madness have always tormented me in the midnight hours. It started with the creaking of the door. That’s how I knew it was real. My hallucinations never use the door. At first it was only a crack, splitting the dark with a small ray. Then the door was thrown open. Light from the hall pierced the dark like shears parting cloth, and she strode in through the gaps. Wearing my aunty’s dress and speaking in a sweet voice. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m here for you.” Anyone else would’ve taken that as kindness but I could sense the venom. She was trying to fool me. I’m too smart for that though. I’ve been keeping my eye’s out for this for too long. I tried to grab the wooden bat I kept between my bed and the wall as inconspicuously as possible. “Sweety, what are you--” I cut her off with a smack to the side of the head. She collapsed with a shriek and I was on her once more, delivering a swift blow to the face just to be sure the job was done. Bloodied, she lay broken. I could taste the iron in the air. I left the place as quick as I could, leaving the body and my Aunty behind.

The house isn't safe anymore. They’ll be sending the buses after me so I’ll go off into the woods. I’ll stop at a payphone to call aunty, to warn her. I’ll leave her a note too.
Just in case I can’t reach her.

[Dew]

harrowing tale of psychotic paranoia! Well done! As tasty a little tale of horror as I've ever read. Brutally ironic and playfully sinister! Exalt! - dew

[JASON]

Take a trip to the dark side - harrowing stuff...
The title definitely does this piece justice.

[dwells]

A narrow escape for sure Cons, and you can always tell those bus drivers by their perfume - Eau du Diesel.
My wife has night terrors on occasion; almost exactly 45 minutes after going to bed. I thought I might find an answer here to that mystery, but I'll spare her your tale since she used to play soft ball. You had me from start to finish. Those beautiful busses...cheers! - Dan

[inflames]

This is a really interesting write! Definitely a sense of paranoia here... I like it! Great read and congrats on your spotlight!

[seraph1420]

This is powerful. No wonder it got spotlighted.
The emotions expressed in here, whether belonging to the speaker or the aunt, they were crystal clear and reached the reader. Beautiful work. Magnificent!

Seraph

[Alan]

Interesting writing and definitely unnerving.

On a technical note, I really liked your pacing and variation of sentence length (=periods) and commas. Not only did the words give overall context, but the pacing gave insight into the character's mind: the speed of the thought-process.

My favourite line was, "Anyone else would’ve taken that as kindness," since the line it refers to seems neutral if not comforting, but it takes a different tone when read in the scope of the poem.