The writer’s group carries on with much enthusiasm. We’ve got some really great stories coming out of the prompts that leave us wanting to know more. Hopefully the stories will be finished either at home or during the group by tying prompts together. Here is one of my stories from this week with a recurring character.
By Genevieve Clovis
Steadily, methodically Arvid searched the house. Every available light blazed. Every cupboard was checked. Every piece of furniture peeked under. The curtains were drawn closed to prevent the feeling of being watched.
He’d checked everywhere three times; the house was empty save for him and Anna. And yet, goosebumps still adorned his arms, his hair still stood on end, and the memories of the dream still haunted him prompting a fourth search. His heart pounded and his already white knuckled grip tightened on the large Maglite he carried as he tried to calm himself.
Arvid gently pushed open the bedroom door and checked under the bed. Anna didn’t stir. His wife was so used to this behaviour she regularly slept through the whole routine. He let out a silent sigh, thankful she hadn’t woken up. Things between them were only getting worse and his night terrors now joined the fray as yet more fodder to be used against him. When his searches, or his nightly whimpers in any way disturbed her it provoked a fight.
You’ve had nightmares your whole life why haven’t you learned to cope with them yet, she’d yell. Or why won’t you just take meds like a normal person. He’d mumble back the same things he always did, but she either couldn’t or wouldn’t try to understand.
Arvid shook his head and closed the bedroom door. He padded down the hallway to the living room and sat in his chair. He hated the chair, wedged into the corner of the room so he couldn’t be snuck up on, hated what it represented. Hated that she thought it was his favourite.