by Vicki Helgeland

Created on: August 14, 2009   Last Updated: August 16, 2009

Sara sat on the edge of her bed, caressed by the candle flames that flickered on her face. It was a cold night and goose bumps emerged on her skin. She tried to turn her lamp on but found the electricity was still out. She was about to get up when she heard a faint tapping on her window. She didn't think much of it at first as the wind usually caused the oleander bush to brush against the glass. Tap, tap, tap...she stood up and threw on her pink robe..tap, tap, tap. She looked at the window and she could see the outline of a person standing outside. Alarmed, she ran to her bedroom door and turned the knob, but found that it would not turn. Panicking, she clenched the knob and tried to turn it again, her hand wet with sweat only slipped around the knob. It wouldn't budge. "Mom?" She screamed. "Mom?" She didn't want to, but she looked back at the window to find that it was being pushed open. Banging on the door, she started to cry. "Mommy, help", but nobody came. She crouched down against the door and tried to disappear.

"Your Mothers not home. You are alone." The voice was raspy and reminded her of dried leaves. It caused cold chills to spike down her spine. In an instant, he was right next to her.

"What do you want?" she barely managed as she fought the urge to wet herself.

"I want the key", he gurgled. His breath was hot against her cheek. She could not make out his face but his eyes were black with red pupils blazing as if fire were burning inside him. She clenched her robe tighter around her small body and again reached for the door handle. This must be a dream, she thought, as she pulled on the knob.

"You are not real" she sobbed. She wanted desperately to believe she was dreaming, but a stench like rotten eggs emanated from his pores. She never remembered smelling things so vividly in her dreams. "What do you mean, a key?" She asked trying to make him go away somehow. She thought she could give him her key to her bike lock. Any key, if that's all he wanted, maybe then he would leave.

She gagged as he leaned in closed and whispered in her ear, "the key to your soul." She could no longer breathe, she tried to scream but couldn't. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something black leap into the open window. Then she recognized it; it was her black poodle, Sherman. Sherman leapt from the windowsill, flew across the room and landed squarely on the demon's back.

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