7/23/2024
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Written By OP
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Keisha Lewis woke up with a start, sweat drenching her sheets.
The clock on her nightstand read 12:01 AM.
Her heart raced, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that clung to her like a second skin.
She tried to convince herself it was just a nightmare, but the fear was too real.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
She picked it up and saw a missed call from her father and a text message: Keisha, call me.
I love you.
The same text she had seen the night before.
The exact text.
She walked to the kitchen, her hands trembling as she put on a pot of water to boil for tea, trying to calm her nerves.
As she leaned against the counter, she noticed the broken window in the back door.
A prowler, she thought.
She grabbed her phone and dialed 911.
911, what’s your emergency?
I think someone’s trying to break into my house.
My back window is shattered.
We’re sending units to your location.
Stay inside and lock all doors.
Minutes later, two officers knocked on her front door.
Deputies Jack Mason and Luke Bryant, their faces eerily familiar.
Keisha let them in, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the draft from the broken window.
Ma’am, we need to check the premises, Mason said, his tone calm but his eyes cold.
Of course, Keisha replied, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that she had lived this moment before.
The deputies walked around the house, their footsteps echoing in the silent night.
Keisha followed them to the kitchen, where the pot of water was now boiling furiously.
She reached to turn off the stove, her movements slow and deliberate, like she was moving through molasses.
Step back, ma’am, Bryant said, his voice tinged with something she couldn’t quite place.
I just need to turn this off, she replied, her hand hovering over the pot.
Suddenly, everything happened in a blur.
Mason drew his gun, his face twisted in a sneer.
You better fucking not or I swear to God I’ll fucking shoot you in the fucking face.
Keisha’s heart stopped.
She turned to face them, the pot still in her hand.
I rebuke you in the name of Jesus, she said, her voice shaking.
Huh?
Mason said.
I rebuke you in the name of Jesus, she repeated, firmer this time.
Drop the fucking pot!
both deputies yelled.
Three shots rang out, and everything went black.
Keisha gasped as she woke up again, drenched in sweat.
The clock read 12:01 AM.
She sat up, her mind racing.
It was the same nightmare, but it felt so real.
She looked at her phone: the same missed call, the same text message from her father.
Determined to change her fate, Keisha went to the kitchen and unplugged the stove.
She called 911 again, reporting the broken window.
Minutes later, Mason and Bryant arrived, knocking on her door.
This time, she didn’t let them in.
Ma’am, we need to check the premises, Mason called out.
I’m fine, Keisha replied through the door.
Just stay outside.
She heard them talking, then the sound of footsteps as they moved around the house.
Her heart pounded as she waited, every second stretching into an eternity.
Suddenly, she heard a window shatter.
She ran to the back of the house, finding Mason climbing through the broken window, gun drawn.
Get back!
he shouted.
Please, just leave me alone!
Keisha screamed.
Mason fired, and everything went black.
Keisha woke up again, her sheets soaked with sweat.
The clock read 12:01 AM.
She screamed in frustration.
No matter what she did, she couldn’t change the outcome.
Each day, the horror began anew, each attempt to survive ending in the same brutal fate.
Determined to escape the cycle, Keisha decided to flee.
She grabbed her car keys and bolted out the front door, driving as fast as she could.
But as she sped through the empty streets, blue lights flashed behind her.
Mason and Bryant were relentless, pulling her over.
Step out of the vehicle, Mason ordered, gun aimed at her head.
Keisha’s hands shook as she complied.
Please, I just want to live, she begged.
Shut up!
Bryant barked.
Get on the ground!
Keisha dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face.
She could hear the safety click off Mason’s gun.
Three shots.
Darkness.
Keisha woke up screaming, the clock reading 12:01 AM.
Each day was a relentless cycle of terror, no escape, no salvation.
She was trapped in an endless nightmare, doomed to relive her death at the hands of the same monstrous deputies.
The horror consumed her, a never-ending torment with no end in sight.
