I was a faithful fan of the show Harper’s Island during its run. I enjoyed it very much and I really miss it now that it’s over. I suppose my subconscious wasn’t ready to let it go yet though, considering the dream I had the other night.
The sky was dark and the rain was pouring down in sheets as I pulled the door shut and snapped the lock into place.
The news was reporting the gruesome murder of a young lady. My neighbor. I ran to the back door and locked it, looking out the window at the house behind mine. I shuddered.
He had been so close to my house. I didn’t know whether to feel lucky or scared to death. The scared option seemed to be in the lead.
A crash outside! It was just the wind flinging a dead tree limb. I wished it would stop storming. I wanted to be able to hear if someone decided to try to get in.
Surely he wouldn’t be back here? At least not so soon, right? What made him go to her house and not mine? Not that I was complaining or anything. It’s just that I was pretty much out of my mind with terror.
I pulled all the curtains closed as the news report on Wakefield continued. A knock at the door caused me to jump. I slowly crept to peak out the window. It was my aunt and cousin. I pulled open the door and hurried them inside, locking it behind them.
I excused myself to use the restroom. When I returned the front doors were hanging wide open. I ran to them in a panic, and pulled them shut locking both the screen door and the main door. I turned around to find my aunt and cousin on the sofa with the curtains behind them open.
“Please close that curtain. I don’t want him to be able to see in if he comes back. I don’t want him to know anyone’s home.” The news droned on. Words like “Wakefield,” “Gruesome” and “Rampage” made me shudder.
I just knew, not a feeling, a certainty. I knew he was going to come back.