Blind Panic

by Julia L. Nielsen

Hannah's palms felt cold and clammy. She was not sure what she was doing there; all she knew was that she had to come. Looking over her shoulder, she just knew, without a doubt, someone was watching her. The scuffle of her ten dollar sandals pounded the floor and she flipped her blonde mane nervously about her. The pink cotton sundress fitted her slim figure and her hazel eyes attracted a few lookers. Hannah could feel the panic settle in. It was times like these that she wished Andrew was still there. He would protect her. But he wasn't and he never would be again. Now, she had to face it alone. The fear crept over her like nightfall and she realized she was running out of time. 

She noticed cold eyes puncturing her soul and she wanted to flee.  Her breathing sped up and she gasped for air. She felt as if any moment, she would collapse. Suddenly, the room began to spin and the world started closing in on her. Like a mirage, visions were jumbling together and sweat cascaded down her forehead. Throwing her hands over her eyes, she sank to the floor, shaking, trembling. The music blared on without so much as a curious look. Everyone there seemed oblivious to her hell. 

She felt a hand roughly grab her shoulder. "What's your problem?" Hannah stared into coal black eyes that looked demonic, as a tall, Langley man with stark black hair hovered over her, his eyes red and glassy. He snickered and stuck out his tongue, like a lizard in waiting.

"Leave me alone. " Hannah said.  With as much strength as she could rally, Hannah dragged herself to her feet and fled the room. The house was massive and everywhere she turned, steal doors trapped her. She felt as if she were in a maze, but the maze had no exit. 

People stared at her as though she were a raving lunatic, set free. Hannah found an open door and quickly made her way in. She slammed it shut and locked it. The room was dark and the shadows seemed overbearing before she turned on the light. The room housed bookshelves, ceiling high. An old wooden desk sat in the corner with a large vinyl brown chair. Hannah turned and spied the room. The carpet was a worn navy blue, but what caught her eye was the grand picture that stood above the desk. An old woman of about seventy five--eighty sat severely on a stool. Her silver hair pulled into a bun. Her pale white face gave Hannah shivers. She bore into Hannah with dark, ebony eyes. The eyes almost looked accusing, as if Hannah was disturbing a most sacred place. It seemed everywhere she went, Hannah felt fear.

Hannah looked away and walked towards the mounds of books that lay neatly side-by-side. The door jangled, which made Hannah jump. The fear returned. Who was it? The only thing that lay between Hannah and them was the door. Was it a sturdy lock? Hannah would drive herself crazy with her panic. After a few rattles, the door stood undisturbed. Hannah let out a deep sigh. She knew she would have to face this night sometime; after all, she could not stay in this room the whole night.

She noticed a window half open and that it odd, not only because it was open, but because there actually was a window in the library. She had never been in any house with a library that had a window. Curious, she walked to the beckoning curtains, as they softly lifted up and down, with the accompanying breeze. The sounds of night: crickets, car noises, people on night-time walks, were all but obsolete. Hannah glanced down the street. The breeze gained force and whipped a gust of wind into the room. Hannah shivered and closed the window. 

Slowly, she made her way to the door and unlocked it. She opened it and peered out. the hall was empty. She left the room and walked down the long hall. Her breathing accelerated again, but she breathed deeply. It was time to face the music.

She entered the spacious living room and heard soft playing of Lionel Ritchie and saw couples arm in arm, dancing to the melodic tune. The crazy man was not there; in fact, it seemed only romance filled the air. Hannah concluded the only fear she had, was in her mind. 

"Excuse me ma'am?" Hannah turned around and saw twinkling blue eyes smiling at her. "Would you care to dance?" Hannah smiled and took the young man's hand. On the dance floor, smooth hands caressed her back and the scent of apple blossoms tickled her nostrils. The man's mesmerizing smile made her heart speed up and she blushed. Hannah's fear had only been something she conjured up; something she could control; something that would make an awesome story...

Return to Top