2:17 (201)

shivering, quaking, trying to contol the sound of her frantic breathing- she covered her mouth and closed her eyes. she tried to tell herself that if it couldn't hear her, and she couldn't see it, then she'd be safe. but she could hear it, and it could most definately see her. it waited, just inside the cover of shadow and watched as she silently panicked. she was to become a meal. she prayed to a God she hadn't bothered to talk to in decades to protect her. but she would be eaten- not as punnishement or because she had ignored her religion for so long. no, she was to become a meal because that was her place in life. she had been born to end up half eaten and left in pieces underneath the bed on the top floor of the long dead Johnson Rodriguiez, corn farmer.
all of her loves, losses, studies, and travels abroad would lead to this place. as she urinated on herself underneath the guest room bed of Mr. Rodriguiez, she thought to herself that it was okay. this situation was to dire to worry about urinating on ones self.
the thing continued to watch her, moving occasionaly so that she knew he was nearby. he watched her for two hours, then finally on Sunday morning at 2:17 a.m. ...