The Blind

A woman troubled by the unknown that dwells within her home.

It felt like the weight of the entire roof rested upon her feet as she stood at her opened door looking outward toward the great black unknown that was her large vacant home. She wondered what terrible creature could have made those noises that forced her blood to rush like she never knew it could. The police had already been called but what was downstairs wasn't going to wait for them like she would.
With her eyes pried open and hands clamped around the grip of the revolver underneath her bed she made the first step out of the sanctuary of her room and into the silent, mysterious jungle that was her hallway. She stood frozen for a minute staring at her home in the black. She felt like she was intruding into someone else's home. The darkness made it familiar and distant at the same time. She felt like she was in a doll house and the owner of it was downstairs preparing for her, waiting for her.
The stairs looked more like the beginnings of a well when the lights were off. She was reluctant to jump down but she had to know what it was that was downstairs. She had to know what she didn't know. So down the well she went; brick by brick.
She trickled down the stairs like maple syrup down the side of a stack of pancakes. She looked behind her and was surprised by what little distance she had traveled from the time she started her decent. Looking back toward the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated. The grip of the gun had become damp and warm from her hands. As her eye lids began to feel heavy again she heard it. Snap! Her eyelids tore open as her muscles tightened in fear. She stood as still as a corpse to hear the noise that would reassure her fear.
She waited for a long while, racing from fear to fear. "I have to continue" she whispered. "I have to end this." 

She slowly lifted her foot to be as quiet as possible. As she was about to finish taking her next step she heard it again. Snap! Louder than ever. She fell onto her suspended foot as her muscles tensed. The ancient stairs creaked so loud they seemed to be tearing in half underneath her. Anxiety flooded the pit of her stomach as she pondered whether that thing below her had heard the demolition of the stairs. "It's time to take charge of this life" she thought. 
Fear turned into fury as she ran down the stairs to face what had been plaguing her night. She hit the bottom and made a swift right with the revolver leading the way. The only thing she could hear were her feet slamming against the cold wood floors beneath her as she ran down the hallway as she approached the second set of stairs. With a single leap she flew over them and arrived to the scene of the crime. Without looking she aimed her quivering gun, ignoring how cold the tile felt beneath her feet. She tried to see what she was aiming at but all she could see was black except for two gleaming eyes.
She peered into them for a few seconds. They were the color of honey and seemed to be filled with wisdom. Bang! Her eyes wider than ever she stood still, seduced to stone by Medusa's gaze. Her chest began to feel numb and she could feel a growing blood puddle warming her cold feet. She could hear the humming of a 2-way radio behind her as she continued to stare at the eyes.
As she was loosing blood she dropped the gun. It hit the floor and fired a round into nowhere. The flash from the gun fell upon the entire kitchen, making everything that was once dark bright for just a second. She let out a quick, pathetic sigh as she discovered what she had been so afraid of the entire time. A branch had come loose from a tree and the wind was causing it to smack up against her kitchen window; and those eyes, they were attached to a cat she had never seen before. 

She fell to the ground, her eyes fixed on those of the cat. The lights of her home turned on as more policemen filed in. She felt home again, safe.

Just as the lights turned on the cat jumped down from its perch and ran off into the night; just as her vitality had moments earlier.

Reviews

[Sasha]

Lol! For someone that hasn't been writing long, you did an amazing job telling this woman's story. You used a lot of excellent metaphors like the stairs snapping beneath her and the bit about her turning to stone under Medusa's gaze. This is a smooth, captivating, descriptive read I would never think to credit a novice writer for creating. You did an excellent job, honestly. The dramatic, suspenseful build-up and humorous ending was a nice touch.

[Franklin...]

This is excellent. You captured the fear of the unknown while making the woman a believable character, and built the tension up to a palpable level. And then tragic irony arrives, quite literally, with a Bang! There are a couple spots where wording seemed a little off, but that's just a minor quibble.

[Lauren Marie]

Ooh! This story gave me chills and goosebumps the whole way.
"She trickled down the stairs like maple syrup down the side of a stack of pancakes." This sentence doesn't seem to fit with the rest of the story. It makes a happy picture and while its a good metaphor/simile it doesn't really fit in with the mood of the story.
Also the ending is kind of confusing to me. Did she shoot herself? If so, how did that happen? Was she holding the gun backwards or something? (Haha) Did the dropping gun shoot her? But then of course that doesn't make sense because she was losing blood before then. Perhaps I've missed something ...
Other than that this was an excellent story with great mood and emotion. I was so scared! :)
Great job!