Those Not Forgotten

There's nothing but an echo, waking you from hazy dreams. It's almost a memory, one you keep reliving. Over and over, just like the sound itself. Rhythmic and low. A warning.

The sound only ringing out in the dead of the night. When the shadows bleed together, suffocating you, making you feel all alone. A sound always forgotten by morning.

At first there was no fear but time has worn down your nerves, leading to nothing but poisonous dread. Its grown closer in the passing weeks. Days. Right outside your door it rings out, disrupting the silence of the night. No longer soft and lost on the wind. It's the thunder in the rushing raining, wanting to burst through. You feel the presence waiting beyond the door. Begging you to welcome it in. Even your own heartbeat can't drown out its pounding.

You cower below sweaty sheets, teeth clenched to hold back heavy breathing. The sound always stops. Leaving a resounding echo at the last knock. Sunlight finds its way in and you know the night is over. But still there is no escape, your limbs grow heavy, sleep pulling at your mind. You fight but can't help the flutter of your eyes. If you sleep you'll forget. The panic sets in all over again. There's nothing you can do. The curse strips away the memories of the night before. A haunting cycle you're forced to live. A fractured mourning that started the night they left.