Nightsounds

Harry Thomas Orrin, "H.T." to his acquaintances, couldn't sleep. He lay on his back, staring into the darkness. Visions of deadbolts, chain latches, window braces and door locks flashed through his mind; his main concern was, in an attempt to lower his power bill, the lights that were left on in his house. Wasteful. He was reasonably comfortable with his world in the daylight, but things got pretty confusing when the sun went down. He closed his eyes, but with every board creak they sprang back open. In the silence of night, every sound became a threat. His probation officer had advised him to leave his television on a timer. The problem with that was, he couldn't sleep with the T.V. on, and when it would shut off ... there he was. A shuffling noise came from the area of the closet ... of course. Harry hated those noises most of all. He understood creaking, and settling, but shuffling made no sense. He held his breath; it was gone. He let the air out of his lungs and closed his eyes. There it was again. The shuffling seemed to have moved to the ceiling, crossing over to a point above his dresser; it stopped again. He was afraid to move ... even his eyes. This was not good; things got worse from there. With a crackling explosion, the night light that was plugged into the wall socket next to the dresser disintegrated, and darkness was upon him. Then Harry saw something move; at least, he detected movement, up the wall from the socket to the ceiling, like a breeze, but with a heartbeat. Harry's eyes widened, and he realized it was the sound of his own heartbeat. The thumping noise he heard came from his chest, and was trying to get out. He placed his hand on his sternum ... it was time to panic. The 'breeze' had stopped for a moment, but now continued across the ceiling until it was directly overhead. This is NOT happening, Harry thought to himself, get out of bed and turn on a light. He tried, but couldn't move. The ceiling began to swirl, a shadow now, like static electricity, and then Harry tasted the odor of burning hair. He knew immediately it was his own, and a fear grew inside him unlike any he had ever known, which was saying a lot, considering. Then things started happening real slow ...