Tales from Haunted: My Last Night

My Last Night

By Boyd Miles

From Haunted: Fact or Fiction

I have my rope. I have my note in my pocket. I was ready. All I needed now was to find a good, stout tree limb. It is getting dark and there is a chill in the air. I better hurry or I will be trying to do this in the dark. 

There, that limb might do. Just toss the rope up and over and tie the end around the tree. I don't know many knots, but this one will hold well enough.

What was that noise? There is something moving over there. I back up behind the tree to let whatever it is pass and stumble over a rock. I almost laugh. It is not just a rock, it is a tombstone. I am in some old, abandoned graveyard. The perfect place.

I look around the tree to see if whatever made the noise is still there. It is getting dark enough that I can't see a thing. I listen and hear nothing. Must have been a bird or squirrel.  

Back to the task at hand, my last task. The tombstone will be just right; I can stand on it and jump off into oblivion. I'm sure the owner won't mind.

Another noise, a rustling sort of sound. I stand still and watch. My heart races. Again I almost laugh at the absurdity of it all.  I am about to hang myself and here I am afraid of something in the dark. Still, I don't want to be interrupted by a do gooder or something. I'll just wait a bit. It is getting colder, but soon enough I won't care.

Behind me another noise. I turn slowly, but there is nothing there. At least I can't see anything there. 

To the side, then the other side. All around me are the sounds of footsteps in the leaves, but I can't see anything. I press up against the tree and hope I am not seen. They just keep coming closer. I am truly afraid. I have a copper taste in my mouth and I can hear my heart beating now. My knees are knocking; I didn't even know that was a real thing.

Closer they come, but I still can't see anything. I hear screaming and slowly realize it is me doing the screaming, but I can't stop. Fear takes control of my body. Even over the screaming I can still hear them coming closer. 

I run, a headlong blind panic dash through the woods in the dark. Tree limbs and vines slash my face. I hold my hands up in front of my face and charge on. I trip and fall and hear whatever they are behind me. I scramble up and run on.

I’m out of breath and my heart is pounding. How far did I walk into the woods? I must be near the street by now. It is so dark. I run headlong into a tree and fall down, dazed. I can see the sky the limbs of the leafless trees look like arms and claws reaching for me. I can hear them getting closer. 

I somehow pull myself up and stumble on in the blackness. There, a light ahead. I try to pick up speed and trip over an unseen object. My knee hits a rock and feels like it shatters. I am rolling on the ground holding my knee like a soccer player.  They are coming closer, I can hear them. I pull myself together enough to shamble on toward the light. 

More branches scratch at my face and eyes. I fall and hear more screams, not my own. High pitched screams like children.

“That's not funny asshole,” comes an angry voice. I look up and I see a fresh new hell. A zombie is standing over me. So are Ironman and a football player. They turn away giving glances back at me, herding a group of children in costume further up the sidewalk. I remember what day it is. I hadn't even thought of it, but it is Halloween.

The wind blows dry leaves out of the woods.