Ten.
The day had finally come. I’ve been waiting months - no, years for this day. I had read up on all of the history. I could feel the anticipation rising in my chest as the clock seemed to slow down.
Nine.
My mind is beginning to race as I try to steady my thoughts. Even after spending months researching & prepping for this day, I knew nothing could prepare me for this. No, I’d have to pray to any and every god. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the sounds of my heart racing, my fan, which is always on even when the air outside chilled me to my bones, and my cats, sleeping peacefully beside me. Oh shit. My cats. I didn’t even think about them. Nothing in my research said anything about animals. Would they know what was going on? Would they be safe? I tried to focus again.
Eight.
My phone buzzing next to me jolted me back to society. I rarely ever receive messages, especially this close to midnight. I was worried it might have been my best friend attending one of those “out in the woods” parties. Was she in trouble? I reached for my phone to check it, but something, someone, was holding me back; fear. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone to check the message. Not yet. Whoever it is can wait.
Seven.
I felt like my heart had moved into my throat and began to pound in an all too familiar pattern as I tried to ignore my phone, as the buzzing kept starting and stopping as if someone was frantically trying to call. My cats began to stir, having been awoken by said phone. “Shit,” I muttered, trying to decide the best course of action.
Six.
Try as I might, I could not get myself to relax. I’d read the stories and heard the legends my father told me as a child. Most people are known to survive this far; live on to tell their stories. But my mom wasn’t one of them; she passed before I could remember her. Dad said I was stronger than her, and I’d always believed him. But as time ticks on, he might have been lying. Hoping that if he said enough, he could speak it into existence.
Five.
I opened my eyes briefly to see that the cats seemed to have jumped off the bed. The room was dark, with only a sliver of light coming from my window. I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, afraid of looking anywhere as the time ticked on, slower and slower with each passing minute.
Four.
The pounding in my ears is becoming unbearable. I try to keep my breath steady, my eyes closed, and I try to count each tick from the clock. My phone, which had finally stopped buzzing, seemed to be making a new sound, almost like someone was trying to unlock it.
Three.
Two.
One.
I winced as I began to feel the sharp pain in my left wrist. I wanted to open my eyes, but I knew better. Time continues to slow down as the pain finally subsides, and my heart begins to take its regular place in my body. I knew this nightmare was coming. Dad said it was typical for our little country for this little “tradition” that occurs on a woman’s 18th birthday. Time seems to stop, and the creature breathes heavily over my shoulder. The tattoo is always the first thing to appear, symbolizing your future and what’s to come. Children grow up hoping to see if they can be one of the special ones, and the creature knows this. It knows how to grab your attention. I focused again on the sounds around me. My mom was unfortunate. Nobody warned her of what was to come. She only knew about the symbol. Looking at it cost her her life. If I follow in her footsteps, I’m in for a night I’d regret. I fought to keep my eyes shut as time ticked on. Ever. So. Slowly. And as I felt the pain rise again, all I could do was hope.
Hope I make it to zero.