Nameless Fear

This is the second post I’ve made here in this vein but the only way for me to make sense of what is happening is to write it down. Again, I am certain that it is writing The Owl Memory which is precipitating this, but that doesn’t make it any less scary. When I climbed into bed last night the bedroom door was closed. I am certain of this. In the wee small hours a noise woke me. This was followed by a series of noises, I would probably put them down as ‘clicking’ type noises. I did not open my eyes. I couldn’t, couldn’t bear to because I did not want to see what Ben saw. I knew deeply and certainly what I would see but was just not ready for it. I had not prepared. Then, I was asleep. I woke again at seven, groggy and sore. The bedroom door was open. 

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