Illusions (standard:Suspense, 1796 words)
Author: Sooty	Added: Jun 27 2003	Views/Reads: 3387/2336	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
'Illusions' is a story about the doubts and fears that a social misfit experiences on his way home from work one night.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

blackness only a few feet ahead of my stride. My crossing point, the 
church, drew nearer and nearer at an agonising pace. After what seemed 
like an aeon, I stopped opposite and watched for oncoming traffic. 
There was none. An unearthly stillness seemed to reign over the street. 
Concentrating hard, I listened intently for the sound of a faraway 
passing car. I could not hear anything. But that wasn't unusual, I 
reminded myself. After all, I rarely met anyone on my way home from 
work. 

I grinned at my foolishness as I crossed the road, beginning to hum a
pointless tune in an effort to break both my own gathering nerves and 
the deadly quiet. It succeeded in doing neither, almost as though the 
silence had risen up to drown out my endeavours. It seemed somewhat 
futile to continue. 

I shuffled my feet as I walked, scraping the soles of my shoes along the
ground. The scratching sound comforted me a little, but I still 
couldn't shake off the nagging fear. I had nearly passed the church 
now. Just a few more paces. 

Footstep. 

The sound came from behind me. A stifling grip seemed to take hold of my
heart and constrict with every breath that I took. Unable to scream, I 
stood and listened, paralysed. 

Seconds passed. The seconds turned into minutes. Gradually, my terror
began to recede. My breathing eased and I regained movement in my legs. 
Slowly, fearfully, I twisted my head to look behind me. The street was 
empty, as it always had been. Only the dull light from the roadside 
lamps moved, flickering softly in a myriad dance over the church wall. 

I shook my head, laughing a little. A footstep? I had most likely
imagined it. I should not be so nervous. It was little wonder that I 
had few friends. My work mates constantly teased me for my timidity and 
politeness. I tried to conform, but there were times when I wondered 
whether it would ever stop, the relentless ribbing and torment. Just 
when I thought I could take no more, when it felt as though the anger 
building inside me would escape in a torrential rush, the teasing would 
subside and cease, and I would recline into a state of relaxation. Then 
it would start again. 

The street was still empty, the night cold and silent. It was not much
more than a few minutes walk back to my modest two up, two down home, 
but tonight the time seemed to drag on endlessly. I looked at my watch: 
twenty past five. How long had I been walking? Increasing my pace, I 
glanced around once more. The familiar feeling of apprehension crept 
back into my head. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. 

Footstep. 

I ran. The air whistled past my ears as I sprinted down the cracked
flagstone pavement. Buildings flashed past; I kept my eyes fixed on the 
path ahead. Soon the stone walls that surrounded the inner regions of 
the town changed to the iron railings of the park. I was heading out 
into the suburbs, not stopping to listen or look back. I could hear 
nothing but the swirl of the breeze that seemed to penetrate through my 
ears and into my mind. I felt dizzy, my head hung like a dead weight 
from my neck. 

The entrance to the park approached – I swerved and barged my way
through the closed gate. There were no lights in the park at this time, 
but it was a quicker route to turn right across the grass and pass 
through the gap in the hedge. That would lead directly into my 
cul-de-sac. The absence of any moon meant that I was swallowed up by 
the dark as I moved away from the comfort of the street lighting. I 
could not see my footing, my brogues clattered together. 

I tripped and fell face first into the wet grass. For a moment I lay
still. The park was quiet, as silent as the street before. My mind 
screamed at me to get up, to run. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. 
But I stayed there, spread-eagled on the ground. And I heard the creak 
of the park gate swinging open. 

Spitting out the fresh cuttings that had clung to my mouth, I leapt to
my feet and fled. My feet moved uneasily on the slippery film of dew; I 
slipped twice but fortunately did not fall. The outline of the hedge 
drew nearer. My darting eyes spotted the gap and I burst through it. I 
had reached the cul-de-sac. 

With leaden feet I lurched towards my house as fast as my weary limbs
would allow. The plain wooden door came ever closer; I reached into my 
pocket and drew out the bunch of jangling keys. Blundering across my 
small front lawn, I slumped with exhaustion against the doorframe. My 
lungs felt as though they would burst if I drew another breath. I 
fumbled clumsily with the keys. The door groaned as it opened and I 
fell inside. 

Lying on the floor, gasping for air, I managed to thrust my right leg
firmly enough against the door for it to close with a slam. Reaching 
upwards, I stabbed at the light switch with a single, outstretched 
finger. The bulb overhead shimmered slowly on, the bright light chasing 
away all traces of shadows into the tightest recesses. I breathed a 
long, slow sigh of relief. Bracing my left hand against the carpeted 
floor, I levered myself upright and shuffled sideways into the living 
room. 

The soft armchair felt comfortable and warm as it moulded itself to my
body. My head flopped backwards as though my neck was too weak to 
support it. I coughed violently, spluttered slightly, and looked around 
the room. The items that filled it were comforting in their 
familiarity. I felt calm and serene here, one of the few places that I 
did, and it was strangely soothing to look upon my own possessions in 
the safety of my own home. 

The light flickered just once before it went out, plunging the entire
room into darkness. 

My hands gripped the sides of the chair in panic. I sprang upright and
stared wildly around. Shadows reached out for me, grasping, clutching 
at my body. There was no escape; they followed me even as I staggered 
across the floor, my arms flailing through the gloom. The eerie black 
shapes came from everywhere, from all directions; I covered my face and 
felt myself plunging through the air. 

My shoulder thudded into the ground with a sickening crack and my arm
went numb. The breath knocked from me, I craned my neck upward to 
glance over at the faraway window. The black silhouette that I saw, 
clearly outlined against the night sky, made my throat constrict. I 
struggled for breath and clambered to my knees, crawling desperately 
towards the kitchen door. 

I pushed it shut behind me and lay prostrate on the cold, tiled floor;
inhaling in short, sharp bursts. The darkness hemmed in around me as I 
stared at the door, unable to tear my eyes away from the handle. 
Shadows from above gathered at my head, swathing me in a suffocating 
blanket. As I watched, my breaths becoming shallower by the second, the 
door handle began to turn. 

I screamed, but there was nobody to hear me. My home was as empty as it
had always been. 


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