Counting Sheep

David rolled onto his back and stared up toward the ceiling. An important meeting in the morning and he couldn't sleep. Important in the life or death sense of the word and not even a wink of sleep. Isn't it always the way?

He glanced at the alarm clock by his bed but the numbers were still flashing 12:00, he hadn't reset the damn thing since the power went out a few weeks ago. He reached out and fumbled through the litter on his nightstand, groping for his watch. Something tumbled off the edge and he held his breath expecting a crash. It landed with a thump. Finally finding his watch, he clicked the button to bring up the bright blue light. It was two in the morning already.

Two o'clock. Only a few more hours till sunrise. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. Just wait and sleep will come. Breathe slowly. Count some sheep.

One

The room darkened, his eyes having adjusted to the bright blue glow of the watch. He rolled onto his back. The past few days kept replaying in his mind. How could he have been so stupid? How could things have gone so wrong? But he could fix it, as long as they gave him a chance to speak. He had the package. He wasn't trying to steal anything. It was delayed. It wasn't his fault.

David had barely slept in days, since the whole thing began. There just hadn't been time. And now, with a few hours to burn, He couldn't get a wink in edge wise. He cursed at the ceiling and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. Maybe watch some TV, he thought, fall asleep on the couch.

Two

Stumbling across the dark room, aiming for the light switch, he stubbed his toe on the way past his desk. He held in the scream, biting on his lip, groaning. He breathed in, sucking the air through his teeth until the pain faded.

Feeling up the wall, he found the light switch. It was in the same place he always kept it. He flicked it. But nothing happened. Shit, power's out again. He looked around the room behind him. The flashing numbers of the alarm clock had vanished.

He grasped the door handle but a sound stopped him from opening the door. Faint but distinct. It was a sound he heard all too often, the creak of a loose tile that he stepped on every time he entered the kitchen. Someone was in his apartment

Three

Holding his breath, he held still, listening for more but all was quiet. Was he just hearing things? Monsters in the dark, boogeymen under the bed? Had it just been in his mind? He would just swing open the door, he told himself, and there will be nothing there. He'd feel like an idiot and laugh about it in the morning. He was sure of it... Well, almost sure.

David kept every movement slow and silent. The idea of someone in his apartment was still planted in his mind and it didn't look like it was going to go away until he had checked every last dark corner. He grasped the door handle in his trembling hand and slowly turned it. He pulled the door open just a crack.

The door creaked and he jumped. He was about to curse himself for acting so foolish when he heard something. A chill crawled up his spine and wrapped itself around his neck, choking him. He couldn't breath.

Someone was whispering.

Four

Seconds past before he was able to move again. He shut the door, he had to think. His heart thundered against his chest, so loud in his ears he worried they would hear that too.

He searched around the darkened room for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. He came across the thing he had knocked off the nightstand earlier, an empty scotch bottle. Then, holding it over his head by neck, he waited by the door for them to come after him.

No one came.

His arm tired. He let the bottle drop to his side. Who were they if they weren't after him? Were they here for the package or was it just some random robbery? Did they not realize he was home? His hands shook.

Five

He jumped at a sudden crack of thunder. He almost swore aloud but caught himself, biting down on his lip. He became aware for the first time of the storm raging on outside, rain pounding on the windows and a lightning flash which lit up the whole room and left it darker than before. When it rains it pours, he thought to himself.

A plan came to David, like something he'd seen in a movie. He tightened his grip on the bottle and moved toward the door. He waited, one hand on the door and the other on the bottle ready to swing. He waited.

His lips forming the words, “come on, come on, come on.”

Thunder boomed and he pulled the door open, the creak it always makes silenced by the thunder. He let go of the breath he'd been holding. There was no one in the hallway. He tried to peer down to the end of the hall, where it broke off into the kitchen on the left and the lounge room on the right but all he could see was darkness.

Six

Lightning flashed.

The moment it did, David saw it. A shadow, cast by someone in the lounge room, moved. He gripped the neck of the bottle and stepped out into the hallway.

He crept along as silently as he could. Testing each step before putting his weight on it. He pictured it in his mind. Playing it out like a movie. He would get to the end of the hallway, he would leap out at the burglar. He was swing the bottle into his head, knocking him out cold. He would grab the guy's gun as it slid out of his hand and hold the thief there until police came to haul him away. There would be an article in the newspaper about him tomorrow morning – Thieves knocked out with hard liquor

Edging down the hall, his back against the wall he tried to keep silent. A ninja with knocking knees. He could begin to hear the burglar moving around his lounge room. The sounds growing with every inch he took. He found himself only a step from the end of the hall now and wanted nothing more than to run and hide but his feet, planting themselves in the quicksand of the hallway, couldn't be moved.

Seven

Shapes were forming before his eyes. The darkness coming alive. A sea of faces staring him down. Hundreds of faces and each one was laughing at him, at his impotency. Mocking his inability to move. Giggling at his trembling hands and legs. They were just waiting for him and any moment they would attack.

Lightning flashed and the faces dissolved in the moment of light.

They were replaced in that second with the real intruder. Kneeling no more than a couple of feet in front of where David stood, his back toward him. All David had to do was take a step and swing. Step and swing. Step and swing.

Eight

He pushed away from the wall, taking a step toward the figure, bringing the bottle down hard.

And missed.

He kept his momentum, stumbling another step forward. He swung the bottle again, smashing it into the intruders head with a strong back swing. The glass shattered. The figure twisted and slumped to the floor.

David found his bearings quickly. Turning and heading toward the phone, he felt elated. He had won. He dodged the coffee table where he would have usually stubbed his toe trying to cross the lounge room in the dark.

Nine

Lightning flashed. As though it had struck right outside the window, the whole apartment lit up clear as day. David caught something in the corner of his eye. He turned toward the mirror where, staring right back at him, was a second intruder. A man dressed in black holding a large blade before him.

It was dark again for only a moment. Another lightning flash and the man had moved faster than a bullet. He was standing an inch away from him now.

“Shit!” David yelped.

The knife slid into his stomach. He tried to scream but couldn't force a sound passed his lips. A wave of dizziness crashed over him. Odd sounds reached his ears, he could hear people speaking but couldn't make out a word. His rubbery legs gave way and he fell to the ground. He coughed and felt something running down his lip, he tried to wipe it away but couldn't move his arm.

He couldn't move at all anymore.

Ten

And finally, he slept.