I Love to be Scared
It was 11:00 PM and I had finished work at the office spending all day doing God-knows-what in front of a computer, only to return home and spend the dying hours of the evening in front of my own, perched at the end of my bed. However, I was happier to see this computer, as it had just finished downloading an Argento movie which I couldn’t wait to watch before going to sleep, hoping it would bless my subconscious with a nightmare or two. I love to be scared.
***
I turned my head to the clock on my bedside table as the credits rolled, to see that it was now 1:00 AM. Not that late, but I thought I’d turn in as it had been what seemed to be a long day. “I’ll just check my e-mail,” I muttered to myself. One new message, no subject. Contact unknown.
Hello Frank….
look under your bed
from a very close friend
I’ll spare you the descriptive words of how I was feeling and what I was thinking. Suffice to say I was scared, especially as I don’t have any friends, let alone close ones. As I am one to deal with things sooner rather than later, I decided to rip off quickly the proverbial plaster and so hastily looked under my bed but saw nothing of any discernible size or presence and therefore, discarding the notion that somebody was under there, I sat back against my headrest. However, I was unsatisfied as some intrinsic instinct suggested that what was under there was not a someone but a something. I decided to reach under the bed with my arm and I began patting my hand around until I felt something. It was cold and sharp. With an intrepid approach and disregard for the object’s icy edge I clutched it and pulled it from underneath the bed. A hatchet. A hatchet smeared with blood.
***
“Morning, Frank. You don’t look too good, bad night’s sleep, was it? Oh, I’m sorry, darling, you wouldn’t know, would you. Ain’t that funny, how I keep forgetting about your forgetfulness. What a pair we are, eh? I’ll get you a cup of coffee and your transcript. There’s not a lot of data to input today so you can get off early and get some rest.”
“Yeah, that would be good. For some reason I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Well, look at it this way. If it was because of some anxiety or the like, at least your short-term amnesia will get rid of that for you.”
“Heh. Yeah, I guess there are some advantages to my condition. Sometimes I scare myself.”
“Heh heh, oh, you. Well, I’ll be back in a minute with your coffee.”
“Thanks, Alison.”
Man, I like her. Okay, now where was I.
Hello Frank….
