End of the Road

Word Count: 7,100

Nobody believes me. I know everyone thinks I am crazy, but if they saw the things I saw, they would be as terrified of the world as I was. People walked around every day in blissful ignorance, unaware of the evil ceaselessly surrounding them. The townsfolk called me agoraphobic, but it was not the open space that caused my crippling trepidation. I was afraid of what inhabited that space. Demons of darkness walked freely among the people and took joy as they caused pain and misery to everyone they could. 

Most of the world called the misfortunes that happened to them “bad luck.” There was no such thing as luck. Every time someone tripped and fell, every time someone shut their hand in a car door, every time a human was involved in some sort of accident, it was caused by the direct actions of these entities only I could see. Why I could see them and no one else could was something I never discovered. Being ignorant of the horrid, heinous entities all around them, other people looked at my ability as a mental illness. I looked at it as a curse. 

It was sometime when I was a little girl that I began to see these things, these sinister beings roaming the earth. It seemed like so long ago since I last saw what it looked like outside. I had not traveled past the boundaries of my own home in more than ten years. There was too much outside waiting to do horrible things to me, and I could not go out there to willingly expose myself to them. 

Before sequestering myself inside I learned the otherworldly entities stayed away from quartz. When my second sight first began, I discovered I could see the vibrations emanating from certain crystals and precious stones. It did not take me long before I noticed the ebony monstrosities avoiding this one specific mineral. I thought perhaps, in high enough concentrations, the vibrations from these transparent stones caused the dark creatures pain. 

I could not say for certain why they avoided the clear crystal, but I took full advantage of the knowledge. There were quartz crystals in every single corner of my house. I even had them in the corners inside the closets, cabinets and pantry. Stones occupied the corners of every window and the top of the blinds obscuring them. 

The local shopping market delivered my groceries to me every Tuesday and sometimes on Saturday. The owner’s son usually made the deliveries. He was a very nice caring young man who would spend an hour or so talking with me when he came by. I did not care for the owner bringing me my things because he always dropped off my delivery and abruptly departed. Sometimes I felt like he believed he would catch “crazy” from me if he stayed around me for too long. 

Both the grocer and his son knew I hated opening the door. When they arrived and knocked, they allowed me time after unlocking it to get safely away from the opening to the outside world before they entered. I was always afraid that, without the door being closed, one of those malicious interlopers might break the boundaries of the quartz to reach in and get me. There was no way I was going to allow an opportunity for that to happen, and even if they could not get me, I could still see the ghastly nightmares lingering right outside. 

The only other time I ever had visitors was when I needed to call on a repairman for something. On very rare occasions I got a visit from my doctor, but besides that the rest of the time I spent in my house alone. I inherited the large, seven-bedroom home from my grandmother when she passed, along with a substantial sum of money. Those beings of darkness that wander the streets would have surely killed me by now if it were not for what my grandmother left me. 

My house was the second largest house in our lightly populated and widely scattered town. I lived at the end of a long road a little more than a thirty-minute drive through the forest from town. Although there were many houses on this road, no one who lived here ever paid me a visit. They all thought I was insane, and I guess this made them afraid of me. I was the one person they should not be afraid of, but that was fine. More people coming to my house would mean the door would have to be opened more often, and I already wished I never had to open it at all. 

I found many things to occupy my time. I loved knitting, even if I did not have anyone to knit for. All the bedrooms and the four bathrooms in my home were decorated with blankets, doilies and other colorful displays. Reading occupied a lot of my time. I only read books. Magazines, newspapers and anything else with current news caused me too much anxiety. I stuck with the romance and western novels. Science fiction, fantasy and mystery novels I avoided because all they ever did was intensify my apprehension and fear. 

Every so often the grocer’s son would take a list of books I wanted him to purchase for me to the bookstore. He sometimes performed other tasks for me besides bringing my groceries. I always compensated him very well for his time, fuel and gave him money for the books. He was a good kid. If he thought I was paying him too much for the task, he would only accept what he thought he deserved. He was the only person in this world I would turn my back to without fear. 

The young man started delivering my groceries to me when he was sixteen years old, but now he was a high school graduate. He was taking a year off before going to college to save up some money, so in a little over a year I would not have him around anymore. Panic overwhelmed me at the thought of being all alone again. I felt like my world was crashing down at the idea of him not being here. My hands began to tremble, and a few tears ran down my cheek as I tried to calm myself down. 

Even if the grocer did send someone else to deliver to me, would he go to the bookstore or run other errands for me? Would he ever take the time to talk with me? 

I tried not to think about that. It was time for me to eat dinner, so I headed down from the second floor and made my way to the kitchen. The kitchen was originally designed to be used for a large family, but now I was the only one left. I probably did not use ninety percent of the equipment and could not say with any certainty if any of it still functioned. 

A sudden and hard knock on my door startled me so bad I fell to the floor. I was not expecting anyone to come to my house again until next week. My stomach turned and my focus narrowed into a tight tunnel vision as fear gripped me. It felt like electricity was coursing through my body as I tried to pull myself to my feet. Once I was again standing, I reached out and grabbed a small cluster of quartz crystals and hugged it tightly. 

Four more raps at the door came, and I fled to the nearest hiding spot I could. Running into the pantry, I carefully shut the door behind me. Moving as far from the door as I could, I kept my protective crystal bound tightly in my arms. I cowered away for at least thirty minutes after that second knock before I finally mustered enough courage to exit the walk-in pantry. Peeking around the corner of the kitchen, I took a good look at the door. It was still closed, the chains were latched, and the wooden plank was still barricading it, but I could not tell if the deadbolts and the knob were locked from there. 

I hid behind the wall for another ten minutes then cautiously crept forward toward the solid oak door. Once I could see the latches were all turned to the locked position and the chains were all in place, I forgot about cooking dinner and ran upstairs to my bedroom. I locked the door and quickly climbed into my bed. Still shaking from the fright, I balled up against the headboard with my knees pulled up to my chest. Tugging my comforter over me, I covered everything but the top of my head so that I could still see the door. 

After some time, the adrenalin from the fright of hearing that unexpected knock at the door wore off, and I drifted off to sleep. I slept until my alarm clock went off the next morning. After going through my wardrobe looking for something to wear, I headed to the ground floor to prepare myself something for breakfast. I never ate dinner last night, so I was very hungry. Before proceeding into the kitchen though, I had to go into the hall to make sure the door was still locked and barred. Satisfied the portal was well secured, I ate a bowl of cereal as I cooked myself some eggs and toasted some bread. 

Still feeling uneasy about the unexpected knock at the door yesterday, I decided after breakfast to check the windows around the doorway. Every window had glass containing chicken wire, iron bars on the inside and outside, blinds, curtains and finally a wooden stand holding a quartz crystal formation. 

I was extremely diligent not to look past the blinds. The thought of seeing what was lurking right outside, waiting to take revenge on me for avoiding them all these years terrified me to my core. As long as I stayed inside and kept quartz crystals everywhere, they could not get me. I knew they hated me for that. They wanted to pay me back for all the years I stayed out of their reach. 

I felt the bars to make sure they were still firm and intact. After checking the bolts in the wall holding the bars in place, I gave them a strong tug to make sure they were not loose. I could feel the glass through the curtain, but I could not check the bars outside. That was usually one of those kinds of things the grocer’s son did for me. 

The whole ordeal made me very uneasy. My hands were trembling again from anxiety, and I was feeling a bit faint. I poured myself a glass of water, got something to snack on and retired to the library. The library contained more books than would fit on the shelves, and I read every single one of them. Reading was the one thing that truly helped take my mind off of the horrors outside. I could get wrapped up in the fantasy of a romance novel and temporarily forget about all my troubles. 

It was nice to imagine a beautiful open prairie filled with tall waving grass and wildflowers, the sun shining brightly overhead. I would love to sit under a tall shade tree while enjoying a cool breeze. I wished places like that existed in real life, but I knew the truth. There was evil walking around everywhere, and for whatever reason no one else could see it. 

The one place I felt safest was in the library. It was in the center of the house, so I was as far away from any exterior door or window as I could be. I was the most surrounded by quartz crystals in here than anywhere except my bedroom right upstairs. In my library I could fully relax and for a short time forget about all those things that furiously wanted to get inside my house. 

Tuesday arrived, and I was looking forward to seeing the young man who delivered my groceries. He normally came between two and three in the afternoon, but by the time three o’clock came, he still had not arrived. I wondered what could be taking him so long; it was not like him to be late. 

Finally, a few minutes before four, there were three hard knocks at the door. Instantly, I knew something was not right. That nice young man who delivered to me always knocked four times. I stopped my advance toward the door, stepped over to the kitchen, and grabbed a blade from the knife block on the island counter. Picking up the nearest piece of quartz, I started backing my way into the library. 

There were three more solid raps at the door. Nearly jumping out of my skin, I dropped the stone onto the floor. I managed to maintain a firm grip on the knife though. The stone was going to have to stay there because I was not going to throw myself off guard by bending over to pick it up. 

Suddenly I heard someone call out my name. I recognized the voice to be that of the grocer. Once again I heard a knock, and again the grocer called out my name. 

Eventually I answered him and asked him what he wanted. He told me he was here to deliver my groceries. I wondered if this was really who it sounded like, or if something was trying to trick me into letting it in. The grocer should not be delivering my things. He had not delivered my things to me for a long time. His son was always the one who drove my groceries out to me. 

“Do you want your things or not?” he asked in an obviously agitated tone. 

I eventually made my way to the door, removed the wooden bar, unlocked the handle and deadbolts, unlatched the chains and hastily ran over to the staircase. Once I was far away from the door and ready to run up the stairs if need be, I hid the knife I was still holding behind my back and told the gentleman to come in. 

Sure enough, it was the owner of the local grocery market. I cringed as I saw the dark entities crowding around him right outside the doorway. The grocer walked past them completely ignorant of their presence. As he was bringing in the brown paper bags, I asked him if his son was sick today. 

“No,” he replied. “He was approved for a scholarship at the last minute, so he’s going to be heading off to college in a few weeks. He came by the other day to tell you the good news but said you didn’t answer the door. He assumed you were asleep.” 

My head started to spin when he gave me the awful news. The grocer continued talking for a bit, but all I heard was a hollow ringing in my ears. I became dizzy, almost losing my balance. I threw my hands out to grab onto the railing, and in doing so I tossed the knife in my hand to the floor. 

The grocer was visibly disturbed when the ten-inch chef knife fell from my hands, bounced down the steps to the hardwood floor and slid clearly into his view. I did not know what I should do. If I went after the knife to pick it up, he would probably think I was going to try to stab him. 

Should I try to explain to him what I was doing with that long blade in my hands? 

I never got the chance. I was so befuddled; I could not get a sentence out before he quickly told me to have a nice day and excused himself from my presence. He did not even pick up the money I had waiting for him on a table where I always put it for a delivery. Before I went back to lock and bar the door, I waited for a few minutes right where I was to make sure he was not going to come back in. Once I heard his car pulling out of my loose gravel driveway, I ran over to the door and put the wooden bar in position. After that, I secured the other various locking mechanisms. 

I wondered what the grocer was going to do. He was clearly bothered by the sight of the knife falling from my hand. Since he did not take the money for the delivery when he left, it was clear the man only had one thought on his mind. He wanted to get out of my house as quickly as he politely could. 

My entire body began to tremble as I descended into an outright panic. I desperately did not want other people to come to my house, people I did not know. I was shaking so bad I almost collapsed to my knees, but I managed to support myself temporarily utilizing the coat rack adjacent to the door. As soon as I was steady enough, I ran to the library and locked the door behind me. Feeling that was not enough, I braced the knob with a chair and put a chunk of quartz on the seat. 

Climbing into my favorite reading chair, I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried. As I pondered what was going to happen, I began downright sobbing at the prospect of strangers showing up to my home. I got so scared when the grocer knocked at the door, I did not even think to put that knife away before first letting him in. He delivered my things to me for years, so I hoped to everything that was holy he would respect my privacy and leave me alone. 

Reaching over to the table next to me, I removed a bottle of sedatives from the small drawer. Picking up a glass of water I had in here from earlier, I quickly swallowed the small pill and waited for it to take effect. I was seriously considering taking another one, but the pill started to help me calm down half an hour after I took it. 

The minutes passed by agonizingly slow. The soft ticking of the intricately designed wooden clock on the wall behind me sounded as if it were only ticking a few times each minute. I stayed huddled in my chair for hours, but I never heard anyone else at the door. Normally, I could still hear when someone knocked, even locked up in the library. 

When I finally did get up, I found I was rather groggy and a bit off balance. Making my way over to the door on the west wall of the library, I listened with my ear against the door for a few moments before unlocking it. Exiting my reading room into the hall, I rounded the corner and began to make my way up the stairs. Between the sedative and the scare, I did not think to pick the knife up off the mahogany hardwood floor. Instead, I made my way to the second floor and headed straight for my bedroom, which was located directly above the library. 

I turned out the lights, leaving only one dim lamp on. If I did not leave some kind of light on, my room became pitch black. Without any windows in this room, no light made it in from the inside. Once I removed my clothes and got into a nightgown, I climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning, when I was bringing my breakfast dishes back to the kitchen, a knock at the door startled me, making me scream and drop the dishes in my hands. Broken fragments of ceramic lay scattered about the floor as I realized I recognized the knock. It was the nice young man who helped me so much over the last few years. 

What would he be doing here now? 

Perhaps he was coming back to tell me himself that he was going to be headed off to college. I picked up the larger plate fragments and dumped them in the trashcan. There was another knock at the door, and then the grocer’s son called out my name. 

I did not want any visitors, but I was happy to see him. He was such a good young man. I went to the door to remove the bar and open the locks when I heard another vehicle pull into my driveway. Something was definitely amiss, and I immediately backed away from the door. He knocked several more times, but I did not answer him. 

I slowly and quietly backed my way to the staircase, beyond which was the west door of the library. The grocer’s son quit knocking, and only a few moments later someone much more heavily fisted began pounding on the door. It was the sheriff. He was asking me to let him come in to talk to me, but I did not answer him either. Instead, I went into the library, locked the doors, barricaded them with furniture, and climbed into my reading chair. 

I hummed a few tunes to myself as I picked up the novel I was in the process of reading. I continued to hum to help drown out the sounds of the people banging at my heavy wooden door. Twenty minutes elapsed before I finally heard the wonderful sound of silence. I did not think they were ever going to leave me alone. 

All my hope for humanity died when that young man tried to deceive me into opening my door. He was so good and kind to me over the last few years; I could not believe he would try something so sinister. That young man was fully aware of how leery I was of strangers, and he worked as their pawn to help the so-called authorities get into my home, my sanctuary. It turned out he was not the good kid I thought he was. 

Several days passed and no one returned to my house. I did not know if the grocer was going to deliver to me any more after the knife incident or not. I was sure he was in on the deceit his son and the sheriff tried to perpetrate. He was probably outside with the rest of them as they tried to trick me out of my home. 

If he stopped bringing my groceries and other items, I was eventually going to run out of food along with a lot of other things. I was so confused, and I felt another panic attack coming on. I took a sedative from the table next to my reading chair and walked upstairs. I walked all the way to the third floor to my childhood bedroom and sat amongst my old toys. They brought me a small measure of comfort, but that was all. The porcelain dolls and stuffed animals did not reassure me like they usually did. 

Four days passed, and no one returned to my house. My grocery delivery was supposed to be tomorrow, but I was completely oblivious as to what I should expect. I did not know if the grocer would come, or if he did would he come alone. His son was going off to college in a few days, and I imagined I would probably never see him again. 

If the sheriff came out with the grocery delivery, what was I supposed to do? 

I could not let them in my house, but I could not go forever on the vegetables I canned during the late spring and early summer. I had meats of various sorts in the freezer, but by my best guess that food would feed me until the end of the year when it was cold and snowy. 

It was about an hour before nightfall when I heard a vehicle pulling into my driveway. I recognized the sputtering engine of the truck belonging to the young man involved in the subterfuge to fool me into letting strangers into my home, my sanctuary. A few moments passed then I heard a light knock on the door. Immediately after that he called out my name. 

“I’m so sorry ma’am. I didn’t want to do it, but they made me,” he said through the solid wooden portal. “If you will let me in, I brought you some groceries, some books and a few other things. 

When I did not respond, he said, “I’m alone. I promise.” 

Something in his voice led me to believe he was telling the truth. Making my way over to the door, I removed the wooden bar and undid the other locks. I went over to the stairs where I normally went when letting someone in then called out for him to come in. 

When the door swung open, I could see him carrying a brown paper bag. Another rested on the ground. Picking that one up as well, the young man carried the bags to the island counter in my oversized kitchen. Excusing himself, he went back outside to grab some more. In total he carried ten paper bags into my house. Normally my deliveries were only five, six bags at most. 

The young man apologized repeatedly for his deceit a few days past. He told me the reason and it filled me with unequivocal trepidation. The grocer told the sheriff about the knife, and said he was worried I was going to hurt his son. They wanted to make me attend a competency hearing to determine if I was a threat to myself or others. 

No one else understood me like this young man did. Everyone else thought I was crazy, but he knew that was not the case. Whenever we talked, he did his best to understand me and why I am the way I am. Even after I told him about the shadow creatures that roam the world, causing misfortune to people, he did not treat me any different than before. I did not know if he was playing along with me or if he really believed me. Regardless, he treated me just like anyone else. 

He could not stay long. No one knew he was here, and he wanted to go before anyone realized where he was. The fine young man took the payment for my things, said a long goodbye and closed the door behind him. I ran up behind him and put the wooden bar back across the door and secured all the various locks. 

What was I going to do? 

I could not stay inside my home if I did not have anyone else bringing groceries out to me. It might be possible for me to convert the sunroom into an arboretum so I could grow my own vegetables inside, but that would mean opening my door to contractors and their crews. I never realized how dependent I became on the grocer and his son in order to survive. 

I had not been outside in over a decade, and I was not about to go outside now. I ran the situation over and over in my head as I put away the groceries. One of the bags, instead of containing food, was filled two-thirds full with books. Most of them were clearly used books, but I did not care. Several were books I already owned, and a couple of them were outside my preferred genres. It almost looked like the young man quietly took up a collection for me from some of the other townsfolk, perhaps from some of his friends. 

I greatly appreciated the efforts of the grocer’s son, but I did not know how much good it was going to do me. He brought me enough groceries to last three additional weeks, perhaps more if I rationed my meals carefully. There was still going to come a point when I would need more groceries and other supplies, and I did not know how I was going to do that without allowing in people I did not want inside my house. 

Maybe it would all blow over. If the grocer was worried about his son, he was leaving in a matter of days. I never made any threats to anyone, and I certainly did not pull a knife on the man as he delivered my things. I merely dropped the knife I was already holding when he came into my house. 

The anticipation was crippling as I waited for the normal day of my grocery deliveries. I did not need groceries at the time, but that was information I was not going to tell anyone. If they knew I did not need anything, they may put two and two together and figure out the grocer’s son was here. 

Tuesday arrived, and I was on pins and needles all day. I tried to go about my usual routine, but I could not get my mind off what might happen. I did not know if the grocer would even come, and if he did, I did not know if he would bring anyone with him. When the day was approaching late afternoon, I sat on the large staircase and waited to see if anyone was going to knock on the door. I remained seated on the steps for an hour and a half before I finally heard a knock at the door. 

Even though I was expecting this visit, it still brought sparks to my eyes and made my skin crawl to hear him pounding on the door. My stomach wrenched as I moved close enough for him to hear me. I called out loudly and asked who it was, even though I knew it was the grocer. He answered back and confirmed his identity. Next, I asked who else was with him, but he assured me he was alone. 

I was filled with intense consternation at the thought of letting the man in my house. I did not think I could trust him like I could his son. I would not be surprised if he had the sheriff with him, and I could not look out the window to confirm he was alone. I knew he would not wait forever though, so I had to make a decision fast. 

Suddenly a thought occurred to me. I asked him if he could take them into the garage and leave them there. That way he would still be bringing the groceries into my house, but I was not giving him access to the interior of my home. I did not like going in the garage, but I would rather do that than step outside to get my groceries. 

To my surprise and relief, he said he would be happy to oblige. I told him I had the payment for the delivery last week and for this one, and I was going to place it outside the door that led from the house to the garage. He seemed fine with this, so I was inclined to believe him when he said he was alone. It looked like this was all going to blow over after all. 

I felt so relieved after today’s delivery. I was sure they were going to try to trick me into letting the sheriff into my house, but they did not even attempt to get in. Maybe the grocer realized I was not trying to hurt anyone and had the sheriff back off. 

I slept easy for the next few nights. With the sheriff and the competency hearing off my mind, I was once again able to relax inside my own home. By the time the weekend was over, I read three of the books the young man brought me. The books he gave me outside my genre I added to a box of similar books upstairs. 

Monday came, and I was feeling much better than in the previous weeks. I woke up that morning refreshed, hungry and full of energy. After getting dressed, I headed downstairs to the kitchen to fix myself something for breakfast. I decided since I was feeling so well this morning, I would cook myself something special. Eggs benedict were my favorite, so I decided to dirty up a few pots and make some. That was something I had not cooked in quite some time. It was a delicious breakfast and a great way to get the day started.  

I only finished cleaning the kitchen a few minutes before I heard a vehicle pulling into my driveway. I anxiously held my breath until there was a loud knock at the door. 

“Ma’am, it’s the Sheriff,” a voice called through the door. “I have a warrant to take you to the courthouse ma’am.” 

A few seconds passed and the sheriff said, “Ma’am, I know you are in there. I have a warrant to take you to see a judge for a competency hearing. I got the warrant a couple of weeks ago, but I waited to serve it on you today, so I did not have to keep you away from your home any longer than necessary.” 

What the grocer’s son told me was true. I had to go in front of a judge and prove I was not crazy. I was not crazy; the problem was the vast majority of people were too limited in their perception to see what was right in front of them. As I stood frozen, trying to think of what I should do, there was another knock at the door. 

“Ma’am, please,” the sheriff said. “If you won’t come out, I am going to have to force my way in. I know that won’t be easy and quite frankly I have no desire to damage your lovely home.” 

Oh, how I so desperately hoped this was all going to blow over, but it looked like I was going to have to leave my home one way or another. If I did not go willingly, they would eventually extract me forcefully, and that would probably cause me to lose the hearing without a doubt. Finally, I answered the sheriff and asked him how long we were going to have to stay gone. 

“The hearing is in three hours, so we don’t have to leave right now. We can wait another hour if you want. I don’t know how long your hearing will take, but the courthouse closes at five o’clock. It won’t be any later than that.” 

I asked him if I had to open the door and let him in right now. He told me no, not if I did not want to. The sheriff said he did not mind waiting outside, but in an hour I was going to have to open the door. I agreed to his terms and told him I would unlock the door in one hour. 

Pacing back and forth in the hallway, I began to weep. Salty tears ran down my cheeks as I thought about what was outside waiting for me. I was not sure if I could actually go through with this. He was not just asking me to leave my house, he was going to take me into town. Butterflies churned in my stomach and my head felt as if it would float away. Although it only seemed like I paced around for a few minutes, the sheriff knocked on the door and told me the hour was up. 

I said I would be there in a moment, while I stood as if my feet were glued in place. Shifting my feet one inch at a time, I slowly crept my way to the door. The thought of what was waiting for me out there scared me more than anything else in this world. If I did not go, they would force me out and probably hold me at the hospital or something until I had the opportunity to see a judge. 

Who knows how long I would be separated from my sanctuary then? 

I picked up and put a few pieces of quartz in my pockets, and I always wore a necklace and bracelet made of the crystal. I prayed these trinkets would be enough to hold those entities of darkness at bay. I knew they resented me for discovering how to hold them back, and I had very little doubt they wanted to get back at me for it. 

My hands trembled violently as I removed the heavy wooden bar from the door. Clumsily I dropped the wooden plank to the floor causing enough noise for the sheriff to hear it. Before I could try to begin unfastening the other locks, he asked me if everything was alright. I told him I was okay, that I was only trying to get the door unlocked. I unlatched the chains, but I could not bring myself to release the deadbolts still holding the door secured to the wall. 

I began crying over the thought of what awaited me just outside the door. I know the sheriff thought he could keep me safe, but he was blissfully unaware of the evil beings all around him. Feeling my legs growing weak, I turned and leaned against the door I was too terrified to open. A few minutes passed, and the man outside called for me again. 

“Ma’am, are you coming out?” he inquired. 

I told him I could not do it. He assured me he would be with me the entire time, and I had nothing to worry about. Fighting through my tears and quivering lips, I told him there was no possible way he could give me such a guarantee. 

“Please, just come out,” he said. “I promise I will do everything in my ability to keep you safe, but you have to come out.” 

Reaching up and grabbing the doorknob tightly, I used it to help me get back to my feet. Struggling to get past my crippling fear, I unlocked the deadbolts one at a time. All that was left was to unlock the doorknob and expose myself to the evil outside. 

Why could they not leave me alone? 

They did not know about the things outside waiting to make me suffer for holding them at bay for more than a decade, but I did. Finally, I turned the lock on the doorknob and gripped the knob so hard my knuckles turned white. I begged the Sheriff one last time not to make me leave my house, but he continued to insist. 

Turning the knob I held firmly in my hands, I slowly pulled the door open. There stood the Sheriff in his uniform surrounded by at least a dozen of the wretched demons. Their black shapeless forms defied the light. Their bodies did not reflect the light but instead absorbed it, so they appeared as nothingness. 

Seeing the shapes surrounding the man, I began to scream and fell back into my house with my eyes closed tightly. He was quick to react and was on the floor holding me almost immediately. I know the Sheriff was a good man, and he had no desire to hurt me. I wished others could see these beings of the netherworld, but if they did the world would probably cease to function. 

Helping me to my feet, the lawman told me I did not have to look. He gently put one arm around my shoulders and held my hand with the other. One small step at a time, he led me out the front walkway over to his vehicle. The things could not touch me because I was protected by my crystals, but I also knew without looking they were trying to figure out how to get me. 

It felt like hours before we finally reached the sheriff’s large pickup truck. He was very kind and patient with me, which is a courtesy I did not think I would receive if I made them force me out of my home. After helping me into his vehicle and buckling my seatbelt, he closed the door and quickly ran around to the other side. 

I was very familiar with the sound of a vehicle driving on my loose stone driveway, so when we hit the paved road, I knew where we were without looking. I knew where we were, but I looked up anyway. I was used to hiding from the world, not shutting my eyes to it. When I glanced up, I saw one of those things standing in the road. It was reaching up with, for lack of a better word, its hands, and it was in line with the sheriff. 

They could not harm me directly, so they were going to hurt me by killing the man driving the truck. I could not let that happen. Not thinking about myself for once in my life, I unbuckled my seatbelt and grabbed the steering wheel. The sheriff did not have time to react before I took hold of the steering wheel and pulled hard in my direction. 

The creature came only inches away from hurting the man who was only doing his job, but thanks to me opening my eyes in time he was still alive. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about me. I swerved the vehicle away from that horror and kept it from getting the sheriff, but when I pulled the vehicle to the right, I drove us straight into a tree. 

The truck stopped at the tree, but I continued forward at our driving pace. Without my seatbelt to hold me in place, I crashed through the windshield and rolled down the hood. Striking my head and upper torso against the tree with incredible force, I shattered my skull and ribcage before the inertia sent me spinning to the ground. Those things gathered around my mangled, lifeless body sharing a sense of glee at my demise. They reveled in the knowledge they finally caused the death of someone who kept them away for so long. 

I was pronounced dead on the scene. Because of my actions a man was still alive, but no one would ever remember it that way. There was no way anyone could know what really happened. In this little town spread throughout the forest, everyone would forever speak of me as that crazy lady at the end of the road.

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