I’m back! Sorry everyone, I’ve been having computer issues that have screwed up my schedule, but they have been fixed. Enjoy!


The darkness is my friend.

I’ve had horrible migraines ever since I was a child. My grandmother used to get them so I guess it runs in the family. Sound didn’t bother me, but light turned a regular headache into the feeling of my head being crushed in a vice. I came to know the darkness. When my friends were scared of the dark, I tread through it fearlessly.

I know the location of everything in my room by touch. I think I can see in the dark a little better than most people, being able to navigate my room only by the dim light from my dorm room microwave and alarm clock.

That’s how I can see him. Standing by my door.

It’s not really a person though, it looks to be taller than the door itself, and the outline looks more like it was 2 kids sitting on each other’s shoulders and not the broad shoulders of a man. It would be funny if it hadn’t shown up behind a locked door at 4 AM.

The head is the true giveaway though. It’s the size of a watermelon, and I can only make out the faintest of features. Hints of ears, maybe a nose. Small eyes.

It has to crouch a little. The watermelon looks like it’s standing on one end, about to tip over, as the thing hunches under my dorm room ceiling.

I sit up and the ancient bed frame, probably here since the university was founded in 1867, squeaks. The head tilts back and forth, searching for the sound. The giant head rolling from side to side like a confused dog. It turns its head upwards and begins sniffing the air.

The thing must be close to blind if it can’t see me from this far. Moving swiftly from the room, it tries to seek out my scent. I lie frozen as it breezes by me and I silently thank my mom for buying me all those weird scented new age bullshit lotions supposed to reduce stress and cure headaches.

The bat handle near my bed seems an eternity away as I stretch for it. Moving as quietly as possible, I grab the taped handle and pull it towards me.

The bat thuds against my nightstand, and the thing is on it in a second.

I can see the cheap particle board shred as the watermelon’s hands tear into it. I hear it release a high pitch shriek, like a quiet steam whistle. Pieces of the shattered wood scratch my eyes and I do all I can to keep from screaming in pain.


We’ve been next to each other for what must be hours. I can see the faintest of sunlight begin to creep through my heavy drapes. The darkness was my friend. I clutch the bat tighter and curse the sun.

Now it’s time to see whether it’s blind. I raise the bat and begin to stand on the bed, it turns its head towards me and I swing. The bat connects and I hear a sharp crack. It looks at me and I see its hand clench and

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