I couldn’t quite place my finger if you were to ask me. What feeling do I feel when I walk home at midnight? One word:
Petrified.
My siblings would laugh had I told them but I always felt something was odd. The rustling of the leaves, the chirping of insects, the flickering of that old lamp post. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary, to be honest. But every now and then, all of my senses would freeze up, as if they all enter a state of fight or flight. The sensation probably lasts for several seconds. Then my body relaxes once again as if nothing happened.
Now you might ask, why was I walking around at midnight? Truth be told, I don’t know why. But the silence and the calming moonlight somehow drove me.
Like a moth to a flame…
I could sometimes catch a glimpse of something passing by, but I had always told myself that it must have been an insect or an owl. Owls are notoriously quiet and nimble. I was too afraid to find out. Afraid of what you might ask? Maybe the light from the old lamp post will suddenly grow brighter and brighter before it gets blindingly bright. And from the empty space, something will reach out, and take me away.
