Hold your breath ’till it’s gone.

You know that feeling when your home alone and you hear the floor creak. How your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. How you sit, absolutely still, how you wait for another noise. How that noise never comes because you’re just being paranoid.
Imagine that noise comes again. You hear feet walking up the hall. Your door is closed so you hide as fast as you can. The door opens. You’re heart beats so loud. Surely you will be found. You hear a voice like sandpaper on rough wood,
“Come out… Come out… Wherever you are.” The voice is singsong and the pausing sounds like it’s teasing you. Foot steps. Your eye dart from side to side. There is no where to run. The voice again. “Found you.” The words are that are needed. Fear strikes your heart. You gasp. You can hear the smile on the things face. You have been found.

Purple Pencil

I had all but forgotten the purple pencil and the woman that went with it. The way it had fallen to the floor. The way the woman, who was wearing a red tank top leaned over and picked up the pencil. The way the woman had written down a long page of words. The way those words described me. I still remembered them exactly: woman: red hair, green eyes, slim body, red dress with white polka dots.
Now, here she was again. Same cafe, same order (hot chocolate and a bar of milk chocolate). I walked up to her.
“Hi.” I said standing next to the empty chair directly across from her.
“Mmmmm. Quiet.” The woman said as she wrote quickly with the purple pencil. “Just a moment.” She wrote. I waited. My view of time became distorted as there was only her and me in my minds eye. Her writing, me waiting. It may have been an hour. Or, just a few seconds. She looked up and smiled. I smiled. My heart beat fast and hard. My hand resting on the back of the chair that sat across from her.