Here I stand, naked in front of my closet racking my mind as to what to wear. I knew I should’ve gone shopping. As it stands, I’ve got three things to choose from. My bright red taffeta bridesmaid dress, which I might add is a size too small, my blouse and pair of slacks I wore to my very first job interview, or my black sheath dress I bought 3 years ago when I was going through my I want to look professional stage. Thinking about my favorite television show, I thought “what would Carrie wear?”

“She’d go with the red taffeta” I said to myself shaking my head. That’s no good. I don’t want the poor guy to think I’m some kind of fruitcake.

Which brings me to the point of this. I had met Bob at my local Italian Restaurant. As soon as I locked eyes with him across the restaurant, I was a goner. In my mind, he was a perfect male specimen. Sure, some would say he was a little old, had a bald patch starting to show, and might have eaten too many snack cakes in his life, but hey, nobody’s perfect.

I grabbed the black dress and slipped it on. I wondered whether I should go heavy or moderate with the perfume and makeup. I’ve never been too much into stuff like this. I dabbed on my perfume to my throat, wrist, and back of my neck. I sure hope he likes the scent of baby powder. I contemplate taking some pictures of myself before Bob shows up, you know to show my friends and get their opinion. Too late though, because I heard two honks outside. I dashed out, checking my breath.

I gotta say, at least he’s got style. I climbed into his shiny black town car and noticed how clean everything was. Spotless leather seats and all the glass and metal parts were super shiny. He made small talk with me all the way to the park where he had set up a romantic picnic for us. It was beautiful. He had set up a gazebo for us covered in flowers and golden lights that twinkled like fireflies. There was an elaborate spread out with wine, and to my delight, the biggest brownies I’ve ever seen. Giving me a kiss on the cheek he led me over to sit.

We spent the next hour talking about our lives. I found out he was an electrical engineer whose salary far surpassed what I could ever earn as a cashier at our local discount store. I asked him what he could ever see in a girl like me. “Well, you’re very pretty, and well kempt. I bet you keep a clean house “ he told me.

“Im clean?! That’s why he likes me?” Whatever. I guess he did call me pretty, let’s just focus on that. I plastered my best smile on my face as he started gathering everything and putting it into the trunk. I couldn’t believe my good luck when halfway down the road he asked me if I would like to go check out his house. I’m secretly glad I wore my good underwear. I’m amazed when he pulls up to a large stately house 10 minutes later.

“This is your house?! I ask.

“Yeah” he says grinning at me. “I thought you’d like to check it out since you might be here quite often.” Those words melted my heart. What a sweet guy. He unlocks the door and leads me into the cleanest house I’ve ever breathed in. Spotless. Spotless floors, spotless rugs, spotless furniture. I had never met a guy who was so tidy.

He left me sitting sitting on his couch for a minute, and he came back carrying cleaning supplies?!!? Seeing the confusion on my face, he shrugs and says “Well, how do you think it stays so clean?” I just stare blankly back at him.

“Come on! Let’s get started!” I swear, he sounded almost giddy. Needless to say, that’s the last time I went out with Bob, and the last time I ever trusted anyone who ate at the Italian place.

I lay there against the plush velvet cushions and listen to the rumble of thunder and the sound of rain pummeling the ground. “They will be coming soon” I thought. Aunt Mabel was here yesterday and this morning. She brought me lovely flowers she said, but sadly I cannot smell them. She kept me company telling me about the family and the goings on of her days. I’m happy for her presence. I’ve not had a visit from anyone else for ( how long has it been? Days? Months?) This is truly the loneliest I’ve ever been.

Time goes by, and my back grows stiff and sore from just lying there. “They will come soon” I tell myself. One day my pastor showed up and said a few prayers. I wanted to ask him when they would be coming to get me and take me home, but my mouth was dry and unmoving. He left without me saying anything. He was my last visitor for quite some time. The seasons change and now it seems to be winter. I can feel the cold all around me, it seeps into the ground. My back and legs are so sore, my mouth so dry and parched, I start to think they’ve forgotten about me.

No one ever comes to see me now. I feel like crying. “They will come soon” I say, as I cry waterless tears and stare at the ceiling of my satin lined coffin.

This night always carries a sense of foreboding for me. I can feel my anxiety growing as the hours pass. I go about my day cleaning, cooking, and taking care of the children. Soon though, the hour is upon me and I can put if off no longer. I put on my coat and shoes and peek into the children’s rooms before heading out the door.

The night is chilly and the wind biting. I shiver as it whips my hair around my head. I pull my coat more tightly around my shoulders.

Soon, that familiar feeling surrounds me. The night is lit up by a luminous albeit ominous moon. The crackle of the dead leaves clinging to the almost bare trees is unnerving to say the least. I rush across the backyard trash bags in hand, as we have produced quite a few bags this week. I see that I’m going to have to make more than one trip.

“It’ll be okay” I say to myself. I look towards the tree line, I know I’m being silly, but I swear I’m being watched. As I said before, the moon is big and full illuminating the expanse I need to cross before making it to my destination: the dumpster. The tree line is also pretty well lit, but the part that bothers me is the black spaces between the numerous trees. There amid the inky blackness is where I imagine it lurks hiding and watching, just waiting for the moment to run out and tear me to shreds.

Finally making it to the dumpster I nervously glance towards the the trees, getting ready to race back to the house to grab the remaining bags. My walk quickly turns into a run. The sense of eyes upon me is getting stronger. I make it to the porch and grab the bags, relieved this will be the last trip.

I keep thinking about what would happen to the children if I was to be taken. Would they be safe inside the house until they were found? “But that’s just silly” I tell myself. I try to calm down and focus on making this as fast as possible. I make it there and deposit the bags with no problem. Starting to feel better, I started walking calmly towards the house. I had almost forgotten about the dark forest until it hit me, that horrible oppressing feeling. The feeling of something watching you, stalking you, with hungry hateful eyes.

I broke into a run my heart hammering, the sound of my blood rushing through my ears. Almost home, I turned and looked towards the trees. It was then that I saw it. The creature of my nightmares, my silent stalker. It stood on its hind legs, every bit of eight feet tall. Even though it was completely covered in hair, I could clearly see its massive muscles. It’s face canine yet oddly human.

I screamed and ran like never before. It’s a good thing that I was close to home. I flung the door open literally jumping into the house, slamming the door and locking it. I ran to the window fully expecting to see that monster running my way. Oddly enough, it was in the same place it was before. It’s eyes locked on mine. The beast let out a bloodcurdling howl and ran back into the woods. I stood there staring in disbelief. Had I really seen what I thought I had? No way, things like that are just silly folk tales. But I couldn’t deny what I’d seen, nor the enormous footprints outside of my house the next day. So far we have been safe inside our home, but I know it’s patiently watching and waiting until........next trash night.