Invisible shackles

Faint distant click coming from the kitchen lets me know the kettle is done. After making a fresh batch of green herbal tea the steam leaves my face glistening. I inhale the scents, cradling the mug in my hands. Apart from the TV playing the newest series I´m watching, everything feels hollow around me- just as I feel on the inside.

It´s been 5 months since I broke up with Nathan, moved out of our apartment and rented out this charming, 2-bedroom bungalow on a rural side of the town. Perfect location for avoiding people with a side of complete loneliness crawling up your skin when the mind enters the dark places.

I drag my fingers down on my cream- colored leather sofa, lost in thought when my phone starts vibrating next to me. What a timing- I wonder how much money she needs this time.

“Hello, Mom. A little late for a phone call, isn´t it?” I chime before she manages to get a word out.

“Good evening, Samantha. I know very well you don´t sleep at night, and it´s important. Put on the news from channel 4. There´s some lunatic roaming around your neighborhood.” she dictates, urgency in her voice.

Reluctantly I reach for the remote since there was no point of arguing with this woman.

I start clicking between the channels until the familiar sight of the local news anchor Stacie pops up on the screen.

“Given you´re a woman living all by yourself you might be in grave danger. Thank god your dad installed those cameras and security system last month when those burglaries were happening. Now this guy might be some next level creep. They say that he.. "

“Hold on for a minute, I have the news on. Let me listen mom,” I cut her off before she manages to narrate the whole news to me.

“According to the witnesses nothing has been stolen from the properties. Both house owners reported seeing a tall man wearing a black baseball cap and dark clothing fleeing their premises. The motive behind the break-ins in Woodsbury area tonight remains unresolved. Make sure to keep all your doors closed and be vigilant of any suspicious activity.” Stacie chimes before proceeding with weather forecast.

Now people are just breaking in for no reason? Sounds like a peeping Tom if you ask me.

“I´m sure it will be fine. Besides, those break-ins happened on the other side of the town. That guy isn´t like Santa who visits every house in a single night,” I chuckle as

being reminded to get into festive mood for upcoming holidays.

“Please take it more seriously. Can you invite someone over? What about Lauren? Maybe you could sleep over for the time being until they catch the guy.” She keeps pleading into my ear like I´m still a teenager.

“Lauren´s on vacation with his boyfriend in Mexico. I´m not sleeping anyway and I´ll keep the lights on. Besides, Weasel counts as company too.” I remind her of my tabby cat who´s crawled up in her makeshift bed by the window. He winks at me in acknowledgment.

" Sure.. okay. But make sure the door is locked and all the windows are closed. Also I hate to ask…“ she drawls her words slowly and I already know where this is going,

" Could you help me out with a 20, those bastards have frozen up my account again.” Mom exhales with a dramatic sigh, knowing I´ll cave in a second.

“Sure whatever, sounds great. Night, Mom.” I end the call before waiting for an answer and lean back on the chair, staring at the crackling ceiling. I refuse to let her ruin my night again, wondering why my mother prefers my wallet to my own self. Even though it´s close to midnight, it might as well be morning for me. My sleep schedule is irreversibly upside down- courtesy of working night shifts as a nurse.

I don´t mind really, I´ve always liked the quiet when the world is sleeping around me.

The only plan for the night was to binge the new crime series until I manage to get some shuteye. A high-pitched whine comes behind the curtains. Weasel marches towards me with locked eyes and determination on his face. He jumps on my lap and starts making air biscuits while humming with a satisfied purr. Steaming mug of tea in hand, cat purring on the lap and crime documentary from the TV- what more could a woman possibly need?

Next few hours go blissfully with near complete stillness- much needed snuggles from my cat while eyes glued to the screen watching the latest horrors happening in Milwaukee. Weasel stirs and stretches his paws with a dramatic yawn. A second later he is out of sight, disappearing into the dark hallway, probably going for a bite. These thoughts are followed by a low growling deep in my stomach, letting me know I should warm up a pizza or something equally low effort.

“Bayhaven Butcher was never identified or captured. There has not been a thread of evidence from any of the murder scenes linked to him. He might as well be a ghost. Police are working hard to this day to seize the man linked to 31 murders in 12 states.” the narrator states from the TV with an ominous tone, glancing at me with an intense stare. A chill running down my spine is a hint to switch to comedy for the time being. Humor is the best coping mechanism to everything, after all.

Confused and disoriented I blink my eyes open, seeing I´m still slouching on my sofa. Weasel had meowed loudly and woken me up from unplanned slumber. TV had gone on silent with a notification popped out, asking if I´m still watching. Guess I wasn´t.

Clearing my throat I´m about to call out for Weasel before I hear an angry hiss coming from near the back door. My eyes shoot towards the sound I didn´t know my cat was capable of even making. Not even when fighting stray cats over the neighbourhood.

My ears are starting to ring as I feel all the blood rushing through the veins, heart sinking deeper in the pit my the second. It feels like an invisible hand grabbing my airways in a firm grip, closing my throat tightly. Fluttering my eyes closed, I try to focus on fighting. Thoughts keep wandering in from different directions, alternating between hope and hopelessness.

No need to panic yet, it could be nothing.

What if it´s the Bayhaven Butcher?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Think, Sam, think.

Time to be brave.

Exhaling a deep breath I open my eyes and tiptoe towards the kitchen, grabbing the butcher knife; hoping I won´t need to use it. I stop by the corner, listening in.

Nothing, absolute silence.

Weasel has stopped hissing and sits silently by the door, looking bored. Clutching the knife in hand I take careful steps until im by the door. Which is still locked and I´m not seeing anyone.

“What was it, Weasel?” I murmur to him. “What did you see?”

I pet the cat and stare at him expectantly like he´s gonna give me any answers. I pull the curtains to the side and take a better look outside. The outdoors remain in the darkness since everyone is fast asleep. Even my neighbour Sally across the street hasn´t transformed her front lawn into Winter Wonderland yet.

Turning my head I spot something out of place. There´s footprints by the door, carved into snow just outside. It wouldn´t normally be alarming as I´m using the door daily. Except today. And it started snowing again around midnight. These prints looked fresh and I´m not expecting anyone.

The door to my bedroom slowly creaks from the end of the hallway.

It´s just Weasel.

Possibly, but what if it´s not? The smartest thing to do would to run to neighbors and call the police. Then what if it actually was the cat and now you´d made yourself look like demented?

“Is someone here?” I mumble a hoarse croak. Catching the lump in my throat, I cough until I feel the shiver in my voice slowly coming to a halt. Everything remains quiet besides my own feet quietly creeping towards the open door.

I´m not fleeing this time. I´m used to facing my demons, even managed to befriend some of them. At some point they become a part of you.

I push the door open widely with the tip of my toe. My heart is pounding in my chest, threatening to explode from the throbbing anxiety taking over all my senses.

No one. There is no one in my room- the place I had just started to call my sanctuary.

No burglar, no Bayhaven Butcher nor Weasel.

Shuddering from the relief flowing over me, the rational thoughts replace the previous anxiety creeping in. The security alarm would’ve gone off if someone had entered my home. As for the footprints, surely there will be a logical explanation. I will check the camera feed after making some calming chamomile tea.

A light tap comes by the window. I’m ready to dismiss it, thinking I must have imagined it until I hear it again.

Tap. Tap.

Glancing at the window, I see a pair of eyes staring at me behind the glass. A pair of feral eyes, not a hint of soul behind them. My feet are glued to the floor, not moving an inch no matter how hard I try. Cold sweat starts covering the entirety of my body; the first single drop gliding down my spine. The world starts collapsing around me, shadows moving from the corner of my eyes.

Don’t be scared now. Look at me.

A gravelly voice whispers into my ear.

This one is stronger. Louder.

I shut my eyes, trying to hide from what’s before me. I don’t dare to open them. I don´t know what’s real anymore.

Forgot these?

There’s a rattling sound piercing the dreading silence. Like tiny beads shaking around in a small container.

Covering my eyes with my hands I take a peek through my fingers. The ceiling lamp starts flickering until a dark figure stretches out, swallowing the room around me. An inhumane, distorted grin flashes at me in the darkness, slender bones gripping an amber-coloured pill bottle.

No. No it can’t be. I would remember if I hadn’t taken them.

Manic laughter fills the room, growing distant as it echoes on the walls. The figure points at a vase by the enormous bookshelf.

You were never gonna make it. Even he left you in the end.

Squinting my eyes I try to make sense of it. Now I see it: a paw-shaped silver name tag attached to the vase. Shifting closer I notice the engraved calligraphic text:

Beloved Weasel

2011-2024

No.

It’s not real.

He was just in the kitchen mere minutes ago. Then again my instincts can’t exactly be trusted when I have no firm grip of reality left.

A mirror shatters with a piercing echo, sending jagged pieces flying around me.

The wooden boards beneath me start shaking, moving around until the floor collapses beneath me.

I feel like I’m drowning underwater- nowhere to hold to; gasping for air, only to be greeted with a rapid waterfall. Muffled voices scattered all around me, blending into inaudible background noise until one of them breaks out from the chaos- the one I dread the most.

Just let go.

The most powerful voice of them all and the one I’ve been battling with the longest. I’m tired of fighting. They were right- I’m never gonna make it no matter how hard I try. It’s time to embrace the darkness surrounding me and make friends with it. A smile curls up my lips at last. The answer was right in front of me all along.

I’m finally home.