Nightlight

Tracey slipped under the cool sheets while her husband stood with his head in the closet. “You know Tracey, you’re a thirty-four year old woman. I shouldn’t have to check for monsters every night before you go to bed.” Mitchell said as he shut the closet door. Tracey lay under the heavy comforter with an innocent smile watching her husband as he reprimanded her. “You shouldn’t need a nightlight either; what are you going to do when your niece comes to stay?” he said as he plugged in the nightlight.

“Oh, she doesn’t even have teeth yet, she won’t know. And besides, that’s why I have you,” she said easing herself out of bed and over to him. She put her hands on his chest and said, “That’s why I have you my big, strong man.”

Mitchell sighed, and Tracey smiled knowing she won. She climbed back in bed and he followed close behind. She curled up and he fit his body to hers like a shell.

“Mitch,” Tracey said.

“Yeah?” He replied half asleep.

“You forgot to check under the bed.”

•••••••

The newspaper ruffled as Tracey set it on the table while finishing the last of the coffee Mitch had prepared before work. She left the paper on the table knowing Mitchell would be interested in reading it before going to bed for the night. She put the coffee mug in the dish washer with the dinner dishes from the night before. As she left the kitchen she checked how much ground coffee was left and added it to the shopping list. Tracey had been drinking more coffee each night while waiting for Mitch to come home from work.

A car horn honked outside and Tracey grabbed her purse on the way out the door. She got in the car with her friend Michelle, “You want to grab lunch before we go shopping?”

“I just had breakfast,” Tracey said slightly annoyed she hadn’t thought of it earlier.

“That’s fine, how about we have some girl time at the mall, get lunch, and then we’ll go to the grocery store?”

“That sounds great,” Tracey said, loving the way her friend could always make the best of a bad situation.

They spent the morning window shopping in the mall and browsing in the usual stores. By the time they finished, Tracey was hungry again and they decided to eat in a small restaurant in the mall.

After the waiter returned with their order Tracey caught Michelle watching him as he walked away. She had to repeat Michelle’s name three times before she would look away.

“What?” Michelle asked innocently cutting her chicken.

“You know what. You were watching that boy like he was a piece of meat!” Tracey said. “Speaking of meat he probably has — .”

“Stop right there,” Tracey cut Michelle off, “that poor boy must be almost half your age.”

“Half the age, twice the fun,” Michelle replied devilishly, “besides, did you see the butt on that kid?”

“You shouldn’t be gawking like that, besides, aren’t you dating Luke now?”

“Eh, Luke didn’t work out. We didn’t have any chemistry and he cared more about work than a relationship.” Michelle said before taking a bite of her chicken. Tracey’s phone began to ring deep within her purse.

“Speaking of men who work too much…” Tracey said looking at the caller ID as it read Mitch.

“Hey hunny, what’s up?” Tracey said already knowing why he called.

“Nothing, just thought I’d call and tell you I have to work late again. There was a change in the O’Hara account and it’s going to take a few hours to sort out.” He replied.

“Again? This is the third time this week,” Tracey replied depressed but not surprised.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, OK? Listen I’ve got to go, I love you, goodbye.” Mitch said.

“I love you too, goodbye,” Tracey said before hanging up the phone.

Tracey turned to her food and began pushing it around her plate with her chin in her hand. Michelle watched her sympathetically.

“Mitchell working late again?” Michelle asked.

“Yeah, he’s been working so hard lately. He never seems to have time to spend at home.” Tracey said sampling from her plate.

“Are you sure he’s been working?”

“What are you talking about? Of course he is!”

Yeah? Have you seen the overtime pay?” Michelle countered.

“Of course! I think… well… no I haven’t now that you mention it,” Tracey said doubtfully.

“See? And when was the last time he fulfilled his ‘marital duties’?” Michelle asked.

“It has been a while,”

“And when was the last time you were spontaneous?”

“It’s been even longer than that. Oh God, it’s all my fault; what should I do?” Tracey said distressed.

“We’re going to finish our lunch, you’re going to pick up that hot little nightie we saw, and you’re going to be spontaneous.” Michelle said with a devilish grin.

•••••••

Ethan shut down his computer and looked at the small frame with a picture of his family, his wife, two kids and newborn baby girl, and he smiled. On his way out of the cubicle he turned off his light and walked down the aisle of the “cubicle farm”. He saw another light down the row and knows instantly who it is. Ethan knew Mitch had been working late almost every night trying to reach their company’s bonus quota.

“Hey Mitch, working late again?” Ethan asked when he reached Mitch’s cubicle.

“Yeah, I’ve got a lot of files to go through if I want to hit the bonus this month.” Mitch said still working.

“Still trying to save up for that trip to Europe for Tracey?” Ethan asked leaning against the cubicle entrance.

“Yeah, if I get the bonus this month, and next month, then I’ll have enough and I’ll be able to surprise Tracey with the plane tickets on our anniversary.” Mitch said leaning back rubbing his eyes.

“Well don’t work too hard, she’ll start to feel neglected,” Ethan told him. “Yeah, but it’ll be worth it when she finds out about the trip,” Mitch replied.

“Well my wife will have my head if I’m late for diaper duty again,” Ethan said with a laugh. “Say hi to Lauren for me,” Mitch said as he went back to work.

“Will do,” Ethan said as he departed.

Mitch sighed and looked at the picture on his desk of Tracey. He glanced at his computer monitor and thought about his situation. If I get in early tomorrow I can make up for lost time. Mitch thought to himself as he packed up his papers.

•••••••

Mitch walked through the door of his house at ten o’clock and called out, “Tracey?” He could hear the TV on though he got no response. He hung up his jacket and walked into the living room where his wife was sleeping on the couch in a nightgown that looked new. On the floor he saw a tipped over champagne glass and on the table was a second glass and a half bottle of champagne. He could see coals smoldering in the fire and hear that the stereo was on. In the CD player was a mix of romantic songs he had made for her when they were first dating. He sighed regretfully and ran a hand through his hair.

He picked up Tracey as if he were picking up an infant and carried her to their room. Mitch laid her in the bed before stripping down and climbing in himself. He set an alarm for early the next morning and curled up behind his wife. Mitch fell asleep easily in the darkened room.

•••••••

Tracey enjoyed the feel of the warm sun on her skin as she sat on a picnic blanket leaning against Mitch. Not too far away two curly headed children played under a tree, and though she could not make out their faces, she knew they were hers. She felt as Mitchell picked her up as if she were an infant and carried her. In his arms she felt safe, but as they moved closer to the tree she began to feel uneasy. She wanted to tell him, No, stop! Don’t take me there! But she found she could not speak, she couldn’t even scream. The sky shifted colors to a blood red as the two curly haired children wrapped up their arms around her, and pulled her to the ground. She found she couldn’t move as the children shifted into a binding blanket and the sky turned into her own bedroom.

Then, as if suspended by a wire, the tree moved to her from its position by the closet and seemed to breathe heavily. Slowly the tree started to shift. First the bark shifted into a sickly grey skin and the leaves fell, shifting into light feathery hair that coated the skin; the trunk split into two sections and formed into skinny human like legs. At the end of the legs, the roots shifted into bird like feet with three talons in the front and one in the back. The lower branches bent down into two long slim arms, attached to long slim hands, and ending in long slim fingers that reached past the knees. A round head was formed by the upper branches. Adorning the head was a pair of wide set eyes with large black pupils and blood red irises. Off the back of the head were two long curling horns and a tail-like appendage ending in a barbed spine which swung smoothly and wrapped around the creature’s body as its mouth spread into a wide toothy grin. Around the creatures neck is crimson red mane of hair that dips into a deep “V” down its torso.

“Are you sleeping well child? I hope your dreams are pleasant.” It said sounding as if it was speaking with two malevolent voices at once. Tracey inhaled to speak but her mouth was quickly covered by the blanket that was binding her.

“No dear, don’t say a thing. You’ll need your rest,” The creature said. “I’ve been investigating your life and you are an interesting woman. You have so many of your own demons; I hardly need to be here,” It said, “why don’t we take a look at the memories you’ve locked away?”

•••••••

Tracey was eight years old again, in her old bed. She’s wrapped up tight in her blanket hugging her stuffed elephant. Her six year old sister, Cynthia, slept in an identical bed across from her. She couldn’t recall this memory, but it felt familiar. Tracey was horrified. She could hear her father snoring in the next room; she could see the tree scraping against the side of the house. She heard a bang on the wall outside her window and she held the stuffed toy tighter.

Slowly the closet door opened and a tall man in dark clothing stepped out. He looked at her briefly and seemed to shimmer into the demon’s form before returning to normal. Seeming satisfied that she was asleep the man turned his attention to Cynthia. He took a rag from his pocket and held it over Cynthia’s mouth. The younger girl woke up frightened and inhaled sharply to scream but she was unable to and soon fell unconscious from the liquid on the rag. The man put Cynthia over his shoulder and opened the window. He handed the limp body to another man just outside the window on a ladder before climbing out himself. It wasn’t until the man shut the window that Tracey realized she had been holding her breath and she let out an ear piercing scream.

•••••••

Tracey woke up in a cold sweat and an empty bed. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was wrapped up in the blankets and sheets. While untangling herself she looked at the clock and saw that it was well before Mitch normally got up. On his side of the bed was an indent in the sheets from his presence the night before. A note sat on his pillow that read, I came home from work last night and found you asleep on the couch so I put you in bed. I had to go to work early this morning to make the quota. I’ll see you tonight. I love you, Mitch. P.S. Your new nightgown looked amazing.

With a sigh Tracey got up and put on her robe and went to make coffee. She checked the cabinet and realized that she’d forgotten to pick up coffee at the store the other day. She texted Michelle, who was due over that afternoon anyway, and asked her to bring coffee over.

Tracey got the paper from outside and sat down at the table to read. Even as she read the black words on the off white page, she couldn’t calm her mind. Her thoughts were a jumbled mix of her nightmare and her issues with Mitch. As she was replaying the nightmare in her head again Mitch called her from work. She listened to him tell her about a weekend business trip he had to go on and that he would be home that afternoon to pack. She hung up the phone and put her face in her hands; she fell asleep at the table as morning drifted into afternoon.

•••••••

Tracey was still in her seat asleep when Michelle walked into the house; she took one look at Tracey, and started making coffee. While the coffee brewed, she gently shook Tracey awake.

“Either your outfit last night drove Mitchell crazy, or it was a bust,” Michelle said taking out two mugs.

“I fell asleep on the couch and he carried me into bed,” Tracey said as she let her hands come down from her face.

“Have you been crying?” Michelle asked her with a concerned look.

Tracey looked at her reflection in a spoon and saw tear streaks on her cheeks. “I had a bad dream last night, I must have been crying in my sleep.” Michelle walked over and wrapped her in a hug.

While Michelle poured them both coffee, Mitchell walked in and gave his wife a quick kiss on the forehead.

“I can’t stay long, the flight leaves in two hours.” Mitchell said rushing out of the room and up the stairs.

Michelle and Tracey sat quietly sipping their coffee until Mitchell came back down.

“I’ll call you when we land, OK?” He said to her, “Have you been crying?” He said as he noticed her tear streaked cheeks.

“Just a bad dream,” Tracey said softly.

“Oh. Alright. I love you and I’ll see you Monday.” He said before walking out the door. “Where’s he going?” Michelle asked feeling out of the loop.

“Business trip to some convention,” She said with a sigh, “I better go take a shower.”

Michelle poured herself another cup of coffee as Tracey left and thought to herself, you know… if she divorced Mitchell it could just be her and I. Two bachelorettes, we could get a place, parties every night. She chewed on a pen cap while she considered the implications of Mitch’s possible lack of integrity. Even if he isn’t cheating, Mitch isn’t really right for her anyway. She began to rationalize her thoughts; he’s a nice enough guy, but Tracey needs more attention. And he should be with someone as driven as he is. Tracey is a sweet girl but she has no real ambition… Maybe I could give them a nudge in the right direction.

Michelle contemplated for a moment, set her mug down determinedly, and headed towards the stairs. In the master bedroom she took a men’s dress shirt from the clothes bin, and kissed it, smearing her lipstick across the outside and the inside in the collar. She put the shirt back in the bottom of the basket and started towards the door.

When she heard the shower still going she stopped and thought for a moment, It needs one last touch… Ah, got it. She slipped off her underwear from under her skirt and stuffed them into the hip pocket of one of the pairs of pants Mitch left in the clothes basket. As she heard the water shut off in the shower she scurried back downstairs to finish her coffee and read the paper, satisfied that she had made the right decision for her friends.

•••••••

Dressed in sweats, with her hair wrapped up in a towel, Tracey walked into the kitchen and poured a new cup of coffee and sat down.

“What’s got you so troubled?” Michelle said looking across the table at Tracey.

“You’ll think it’s silly,” Tracey said sipping her coffee.

“Come on, you can tell me anything,”

“OK, I had this dream last night…” Tracey retold her dream to the best of her memory, though she omited the part about Cynthia. It had shaken her far too deeply to think about, let alone share with anyone else.

“It was just a dream, don’t dwell on it,” Michelle said, comforting her friend. Her phone went off and she checked the caller ID. “It’s work,” She said to Tracey as she answered it.

“Carrie got sick, I have to go in and cover her shift,” Michelle said after she finished the call, “I’ll call you tomorrow.” On her way out the door she put her coffee cup in the sink.

Tracey stood up holding the coffee cup tightly in her hands. She walked back to her room, dropped the towel from her hair into the hamper, and took out a notebook she kept by her bed to jot down thoughts she wanted to remember. She sat on the edge of her bed, opened to a blank page, and stared at it for a moment. The feeling of being watched sent a shiver down her spine. She turned and looked seeing the closet door open wide; she closed it quickly before returning to sit on her bed, opening back to a blank page she wrote down the dream, leaving nothing out.

After she finished writing down her dream she set the notebook down on Mitch’s side of the bed. She carried the full basket down to the laundry room, but her dream kept nagging at her thoughts. Tracey set the laundry basket on the floor and walked up to the kitchen where she grabbed the home phone off the hook.

As she dialed her mother’s number from memory she realized she had no idea what she was going to say. The phone rang three times before Tracey’s mom, Susan, picked up the phone in her condo in south Florida.

“Hey Tracey, is everything alright?” Susan said, not used to Tracey calling during dinner.

“Yeah,I was just wondering… Um…” Tracey trailed off, not knowing how to approach the subject.

“What is it dear? Supper is getting cold and you know how your father gets,” “Well, I was wondering what happened with Cynthia?”

Susan went quiet on the other end of the line before she spoke up, “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, I was just thinking of it the other day,”

“Well,” Susan began, “they, the police, tracked the van to a flower shop. They found her in a closet in a hidden room. She was still alive when they found her, but she didn’t make it to the hospital.” Susan finished with a slight tinge of pain in her voice.

“Are you OK Mom?” Tracey said, regretting bringing it up.

“Yeah I’m fine; it’s just a tough subject to think about. Listen hon, I’ve got to get dinner on the table. I love you, we’ll talk soon.”

“OK, I love you too.” Tracey said before hanging up the phone. She set the phone down on the receiver and went back to the laundry room. She was so distracted in her thoughts she almost missed the red marks on Mitch’s shirt collar. Did he cut himself shaving and not realize it? No, it’s probably ketchup, She thought. Upon closer inspection she recognized the substance not as blood or ketchup but as lipstick.

Oh my God, he is cheating. With who? Why? What will we do with the house? She reigned in her panic though she couldn’t stop her heart from pounding in her chest. OK, just relax. It looks like the shade of lipstick Michelle put on you the other night. It probably just smeared on his shirt when he carried me to bed. Tracey took a deep breath and for the first time since she nearly lost her job last April she said to herself, I need a drink.

From the liquor cabinet she took a bottle of her favorite wine, and pulled the cork out with a towel. She took a wine glass and the bottle with her to the laundry and poured a full glass before drinking half of it in one gulp. Tracey set the bottle on the dryer and went back to the laundry. She soon forgot about her problems as she got lost in the monotony of the chore until she came across a piece of red fabric hanging out of Mitch’s pants pocket. As she pulled it out she recognized the lacy fabric as a thong, though not one she had ever owned, let alone worn.

Her mind went blank as she dropped the garment on top of the laundry basket. Tracey finished the wine in her glass in a single gulp as she picked up the bottle to pour more. She stopped and looked at the glass then at the bottle. Drinking from the bottle, Tracey dropped the glass on the dryer and walked to her bedroom where she mindlessly watched an old romantic movie. The contents of the bottle dwindle quickly as the movie dragged on to the end. Late into the movie Tracey fell asleep in an alcohol induced fog.

•••••••

Mitch landed, nearly two hours later than expected due to delays, and picked up the phone to call Tracey. The phone rang six times before going to voicemail. She must be asleep, he thought as he left a message on her phone. He made his way to baggage claim, looking forward to when would have to do this with Tracey in Europe.

•••••••

Tracey watched, as if she were a fly on the wall, as her body sat at the kitchen table and wrote. She couldn’t make out what was being written so she moved closer to look. How odd it is, she thought, to read over my own shoulder.

She could see immediately that it was her own suicide note, but what shocked her more was the grayish tone of her skin and light, feather black hair that had grown from her pores. I have to do something; I have to take back my body! She thought as she pulled herself into her body. She struggled mentally with the demon that had possessed her and she was able to temporarily gain the upper hand. She only had time to write one sentence at the bottom before she felt long hands on her shoulders pulling her to the ground. This is still a dream, she thought, is it still a dream? Why didn’t I wake up? Tracey tried to scream out, but she was paralyzed by fear as the demon pinned her down, its face a mask of fury. It reached down and lifted her off the ground; try as she might to kick it away she found she was just too weak to drive the creature away. It made a sound that she took for a laugh, and threw her across the kitchen. As soon as she landed the beast pounced on her.

•••••••

“At least I’ll enjoy this,” It said to her, its teeth in a horrifying shark-like grin. She reached her arm out looking for anything to grab and felt her hand wrap around a handle. Without thinking of the repercussions, she smashed what was in her hand against the skull of the demon.

•••••••

Tracey became conscious to shards of glass from her coffee pot rained down on her as the demon fell off to the side, landing on Mitch’s side of the bed. She scurried to the opposite side of the room looking at the body. I have to tell someone, I should tie it up so they can see it, Tracey thought as she ran out to the shed in her nightclothes. She found rope coiled and hanging on a hook on the wall. She dashed back across the lawn with the rope in hand, ignoring the wet feeling on her bare feet. The tile was pleasantly warm as she stepped into the house and up the carpeted stairs to her room where the demon lay unconscious.

Her blood ran cold as she saw the bed bloodstained but empty. She sobbed in terror as she clutched the wine bottle that lay on the bed to her chest. Something bumped against her foot as she moved with her back against the wall. On the ground she saw her nightlight and plugged it in as quickly as she could. Satisfied with the dull glow of the small light, she moved to the closet. With a trembling hand, and the wine bottle raised high she pulled open the door to reveal what was inside.

The closet was empty, but that did little to calm her pounding heart. She sidled around the room to turn on the bedside lamp on her nightstand. Tracey flicked the switch and a bright light illuminated the room. With a brief sigh of relief she sat on her bed and allowed the bottle and rope fall from her grip.

Her relief was short lived as long dark hands reach from under the bed and drag her under. Tracey only had time for a short scream before hands tightened around her throat cutting off her breath.

•••••••

Mitch tried again to call Tracey once his plane landed Monday morning but it went straight to voicemail again. He drove home quickly, his apprehension growing. The tickets for their European holiday were only sitting heavily in his shirt pocket and increasing his anxiety. His worst fears were realized when he pulled up and police cars are lined up outside his door. Mitch ran up to Michelle who was crying as a stretcher baring a body bag was being pushed out of the house.

•••••••

He sat across a table from a detective whose name he didn’t remember. The past few hours had been a blur of condolences. Michelle was taking care of organizing the funeral, which was going to be held that weekend, and he was grateful for that. He didn’t think he could handle planning his wife’s funeral.

“How did she die?” Mitch asked, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Tracey was found hanging from a noose in the master bedroom closet,” the detective replied solemnly. “She was found with a blood alcohol content of point one-nine. She did leave this, it’s addressed to you.” He said sliding a note across the table.

Mitch read the note twice weeping silently. The note described how she knew he was cheating, of the lipstick on the collar, and the underwear in the pocket. It detailed how she had tried to rekindle their love but he was never home and she finally knew why. Mitch couldn’t believe what he was reading, the last thing on his mind was infidelity but Tracey had believed it. He had no idea what the lipstick was from, nor the underwear, but he knew it was his aloofness that had been the nail in her coffin.

“The part that has us concerned was the bottom. It appears to have been written later on after the rest but it appears the writer was distressed when it was written, compared to the rest that appears to have been written by someone with a sound mind.” The detective said, breaking the silence.

Looking down to the bottom, Mitch reads the sentence scrawled across the bottom that had escaped his notice before. Check under the bed, it read in cold black ink.

“Do you know what it means?” The detective asked.

“My wife was afraid of the dark,” Mitch replied not looking up. “She always told me to check for… whatever had her so scared, but I always forgot to check under the bed. Tracey probably wrote this in addition to remind me to check under the bed when I got home.”

•••••••

At the funeral, Mitchell stood by the casket, with tears in his eyes. It was a closed casket funeral due to the nature of her death, but the mortician had allowed him to open it to put something inside.

“These were meant for you. Europe isn’t worth visiting if you aren’t with me,” Mitch said as he set the tickets down inside beside her. He kissed her once on the cold skin of her forehead before shutting the casket. Something about her expression unnerved him; he had heard in death people looked peaceful, but Tracey had an expression of terror instead.

After the body was lowered into the ground, Mitch and Pastor Lawrence went back to the church to talk.

“I read the journal passage you brought me, it was disturbing to say the least,” The young pastor said pouring two cups of tea. “Though I wouldn’t discredit her dream, I have heard of events occurring that parallel these.”

“What do you mean?” Mitch said looking at the clergyman.

“Demonic hauntings are very rare, but not unheard of. You should consider yourself lucky that you were not implicated.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Mitch asked exasperated.

“At this juncture, no, and there is nothing left to worry about. When a person is haunted by a demon, the demon is trapped in the home of the haunted and will leave the home once that person is gone.” Mitch recalled the Pastor’s words, but they did little to give him solace.

It was his anniversary, and Mitch was celebrating by hitting the bottle hard. He drank from the store of their wedding wine while he went through Tracey’s things. He came across the nightlight, lying on the floor by the socket.

“Don’t worry love; I will drive away the dark for you.” Mitch said drunkenly as he plugged in the nightlight. He pulled open the closet and could picture her hanging there, her face swollen, noose tight around her neck. Tears ran freely from his face as he curled up around a pile of her clothes hugging a picture of Tracey to his chest. He drifted off into an uneasy sleep, as the wine spilled from the bottle.

•••••••

Mitch woke with a start as the weight of Tracey’s demon fell on his chest. The creature grinned a disturbed sadistic grin as its tail whipped through the air like a snake.

“Tracey wasn’t the one being haunted,” it said just before it drove the barbed spine through Mitchell’s temple. Blood slipped onto the pillow as the demon wrote Mitch’s note, containing only his final thoughts.

•••••••

The scene was sad, but the detective had seen this before, one spouse goes, and the other soon follows. It was easy to see it was suicide. An empty bottle lay on the floor, and a gun sat in his hand, and there was an entry and exit wound on the man’s skull, passing through the temple. A broken window sat in the bullet’s path, though the projectile was never recovered. The only thing that troubled him was the light feathery hair that had been found stuck to the broken glass. It must have come from some animal, he rationalized.

The detective read the note again as he had many times in the past few hours. It only had one line. I’ll be alright. I’m going back to my love, my home.