Thirty-six hours had passed since I had last laid my weary head on a pillow, and yet I lay there, unable to escape consciousness, unable to drift away into a world that could give temporary freedom from the burdens of this life.
As thoughts and worries plagued my tired mind in overwhelming and suffocating numbers, I smiled a wry smile, envisioning an ebony bird, perched upon a bust of Pallas above my door. It was at that point a soft, soothing breeze came through my window; beckoning, calling, pleading me to fully experience its calming effect outside. I resisted the urge at first, reasoning that getting out of bed and taking a midnight stroll would awaken me further and perpetuate my sleeplessness yet that much longer.
I battled with myself for some time on this matter before I abruptly rose, stepped into a pair of slippers, and quietly made my way out my back door. The path was a rather short loop, less than a quarter of a mile long, that winded through a rose garden, a bit of woods, and then back through the aforementioned rose garden.
It was quiet out that night, and the quietness seemed to convince my mind to be quiet also. As I walked, the cool breeze refreshed me, and my stress and worries floated off with it. My eyes grew tired, and I would walk a few steps with them closed, open them for a moment to regain my bearings, and then close them again.
I was half asleep as I walked, and I knew I would fall straight asleep as soon as I got back to the house and into bed. As I rounded a bend in the woods, I was quickly and harshly brought wide awake by a faint rustling, somewhere not far from me. I reasoned that it was most likely the wind stirring the leaves, and convinced myself of that until I heard the rustling again. This time it was slightly closer and this time I could tell the rustling was not of leaves but of what was assuredly an animal of some sort.
I had walked for some time without hearing anymore noises, and had begun to think the rustling had been made by a harmless animal, when I heard it a third time. It was at this point that I realized the animal was not harmless, and that I was being stalked. I looked all around hoping for a glimpse, and then I saw it, just out of the corner of my eye, the nocturnal germ of suburbia.
It was bright that night, with a near full moon shining overhead; yet, this vial beast evaded my sight, only showing itself as skittering motion in my peripheral vision. Had I had better eyes, eyes capable of piercing the darkness, I could have seen it more clearly. I could have seen it sitting there, scheming, plotting, analyzing my every movement; waiting for the prime moment, waiting to maim me with one swift, seamless movement. I could have seen its infernal nose twitching, twitching incessantly, in beat with the hellish heart of Persephone of old. A feeling of jealousy raged within me for those fortunate enough to face that terrible queen of the dead herself, instead of the woes that would befall me that horrid night.
A thick fear overcame me, as I no longer could see any movements around me. Abruptly changing my course, and thus significantly shortening my stroll, I headed back to my house. I knew it, like most predatory beasts could sense fear, and I wondered if it could tell I was no longer interested in my stroll, but only in my well-being. My heart pounded with every step I took, and I quickened my pace, straining my ears for any sound. Deep within my mind I knew listening for this silent assassin was foolish.
My mind was filled with horrors and fear engulfed me in such a way that I threw away all caution, and broke into a full run. I cursed myself for not wearing more appropriate footwear and with every step and leap I ran, the house grew smaller and the trail longer. My legs turned to stone and I labored with each breath. I could sense the beast behind me, moving swiftly like a rushing wind. Fear pushed me forward and my ears roared as I felt its smoldering breath at my back. With one final leap I burst through the door and slammed it shut, collapsed to the floor heaving, hardly believing I had survived the onslaught of this hell-fiend, Oryctolagus cuniculus .
I slept soundly that night. Despite awakening my much more than I was before I took the midnight stroll, in the end it did calm me. A close brush with death turned my worries to trivialities.