11:59

It had been 11:59 for hours. Either my watch was broken, or I was. I slowly lifted myself
off the pavement and was met with a dark, starless sky. I was told to be there by midnight, and I
was. No one had moved since I arrived there. There were no cars on the street; there were no
noises anywhere. I wondered whether I was going mad. It had to be a possibility; I did obey a
voice in my head by travelling to this place. I’d also laid on the ground for a considerable
amount of time waiting for whatever “it” was. I felt that I was absolutely insane and made the
decision to go back home. As soon as I turned around to cross the street, I hit my head and fell
back.

I stood up and reached out, feeling the air around me since there was nothing in front of me
to hit my head-on. After a while, I found myself in a box of sorts. The walls were completely
clear and almost felt like glass. Suddenly, I became very aware of the situation and did
everything I could to escape. I attempted to break the walls, jump over them, find a hole in them,
but to no avail. I laid back down on the sidewalk and looked up at the sky. No visible stars were
present, but the moon was there, stagnant, hovering. The buildings around me were tall and
vacant, eyeing me. No lights were on. No people were talking. There was no sound of traffic. I
lay there, breathing. That’s all I could do. A floating black figure slowly grew above me.

I thought that I was blacking out, or simply falling asleep, until the black figure reached for my
hand. I rolled out from under it and jumped up. The figure did not rush after me; instead, it slowly
stood and extended its hand, palm up. My eyes burned from staring. I knew then that it didn’t
want to scare me, and that I wasn’t going to get out unless I complied. I placed my hand on its
own and waited. It turned my hand over and tapped on my palm. I had no idea what that meant.

The long and skeletal fingers almost pierced my skin, though the rest of the figure was airy and
floating. I tried to study the moving parts, in case this was something I would have to describe to
someone else one day. It whispered words that weren’t in a language I’ve ever heard and begun
floating back and forth, almost as if pacing, or thinking. I laid back down; it kept pacing. After a
few minutes, the hair stood on the back of my neck. Icy fingers gripped my arm and the world
turned black around me. I couldn’t see anymore. I wasn’t sure if I could hear or not; tonight had
been silent anyway. I stood up, but not on my own. The figure had taken control of me. I could
feel it.

All I was able to see was the darkness inside but for some reason, I didn’t mind. The
figure and I hovered over the ground. I heard a shuffling noise, but nothing more. We stood, and
my hand moved outward, palm up. I sensed hesitation. Soon I was holding another hand, turning
it over, and tapping its palm. The hand was smooth and hot. I heard the figure whisper something
about the unknown, but I couldn’t understand. It was pacing again, this time with me inside. I
couldn’t help but wonder about its purpose.

I opened my eyes. I was laying on the sidewalk, which was rougher than I
remembered. I looked to my right, and the figure wasn’t there anymore. I didn’t bother getting up
to check for walls—that didn’t matter anymore. I lay on the ground and waited. The air had
grown muggy and suffocating. Breathing became a manual task, something that required
constant concentration. Just as I was about to give up, the air around me grew cold, and a black
figure appeared above me.

I checked my watch. 11:59.

Ella Simmons is a double major in Creative Writing and Film Production. She loves all things macabre, ghoulish, and dreamlike. It’s not uncommon for her to write short stories, poetry, essays, and whatever else comes to mind.