The Haunted House (pt. 9)

I awoke in daylight, the knife laying somewhat precariously in my lap where I had eventually dropped it.  I remembered that I had lasted a long while keeping alert but had no clear idea just what time it might have been when I finally succumbed to the exhaustion that all of the tension had wrought, nor did I recall ever waking up over the course of the slumber.  I had no recollections of the dreams that I experienced, nothing beyond vagaries and the the knowledge that I did indeed dream.  There was the echo of the overarching presence of the ocean whose roar I was still hearing outside and the uncanny feeling that I had inhaled seawater through my nostrils.  There was also the faint idea of some type of warning relayed, given by a presence that I could not recall yet touching on something fundamental in my individual mythos.

I arose to many bodily pains as the chair was not really meant for that type of repose and began my normal morning routine of yoga that proceeded at a pace greatly slowed from the norm and punctuated with many additional aches.  As I did so I realized that I was feeling as though I was suffering some type of hangover though I had not imbibed nearly enough to experience one of the typical flavor.  Once finished I splashed some water on my face, for I could not bring myself to use the shower knowing what we all do about such situations from our cultural cinematic experience.

Instead I put on a hat and, without changing my clothes, drove into town and located a sufficient diner where I could down large amounts of unremarkable coffee and a substantial breakfast. Feeling slightly better I then made my way to a supermarket where I purchased the least horrible frozen pizza that I could find knowing that I would not be leaving the house again once I had returned for better chance of finding out whatever it was that I was trying to experience, for this would be the last day and night before the rental would expire.  I also bought many more coffee drinks to sustain me.

I returned to the house, unlocked the front door that I knew unquestionably that I had locked when leaving, and upon entering the kitchen knew that something was amiss.  In the living room my bag was upended and all of my belongings were strewn about in a mad fashion.  Something had happened in my absence and I was again feeling the terror of the unknown, though somewhat dulled now by my previous experiences and the effects of said upon my mental and physical well being.