Amy M. Schaefer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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Things That Go Bump In The Night

12/30/2015

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Picture
Image @ hellogiggles.com
I drove into the quaint little downtown area of Smalltown Somewhere, America, taking in the little shops and restaurants along the Main Street row. I parked at a metered space and got out to look around. "I could live here," I thought as I window shopped, enjoying an antique store here and a kitchen specialty shop there. A lovely old town hall building sat majestic and proud at the end of Main Street with a lush green park across from it on the other side. As I grew closer, I could hear ducks happily quacking on some nearby pond. I'd pop into the town hall and do a bit of research before calling my husband to give a report on what I'd found.

The clerk at the counter, an older woman with white hair and kind eyes asked politely, "May I help you?" "Yes, ma'am. I'd like to read a bit about your town's history. Where would be the best place to start?" I asked. Before she could speak, a muffled scream could be heard from somewhere in the building. She attempted to ignore it, and in a strained flourish suggested I try the library on the other end of town near the University campus. I thanked her and headed for the door preparing to open it when I heard what sounded like a loud crash. I turned towards the clerk's window, but she had gone. "Do I investigate or just go?" I wondered, my hand now on the doorknob. I took a deep breath and quietly crept back into the depths of the building in search of the source of the noise. "You should leave," my inner voice warned even though there was really no chance of that happening now.

I'd found the door that seemed to be where the source of the unusual and disturbing noises were coming from and opened it just a crack. It took a moment for my mind to register the horrors that my eyes were seeing and a great deal of restraint not to scream loud and long, myself. I tried to close the door quietly, but it was too late. The man responsible for what was going on in the room saw me and was immediately on a radio. Somewhere in my mind, I knew this man was "in charge" and that, alone, felt unbelievably frightening. I turned and ran. I ran as fast as I could without knocking into people on the sidewalk while fishing in my purse for my car keys and phone. Finally at my car, with hands shaking, I unlocked the door, started the car, and called my husband. My words came out in a shaky flourish as I drove in an attempt to escape. It was, however, too late for that. Several police cars were now in pursuit of me. I floored it, got as far from them as possible without killing any pedestrians, and then got out to run.

I tried to lose myself in the sea of students on the University campus where I'd ended up, but that didn't matter as those pursuing me with an army of assault rifles merely mowed people down in their path. At the end of a long corridor, I ran head first into my husband. I was so relived to see him and gripped his hand as tightly as possible. While we were trying to make our escape, however, we got separated. I found a hiding spot, but I could hear men's voices behind me, men with guns intent on my silence and they were close. I made myself as small as possible in my hiding place, my body shaking so hard it made my teeth rattle. Surely it was so loud they would hear me, but my willpower was not enough to make them stop. And then the butt of a gun was touching the back of my head and I knew that was it...

I woke shaking and disoriented. I stumbled to the bathroom and washed my face, attempting to calm myself. When I crawled back into bed, the clock showed 4:12 am. I shook my husband's shoulder and whispered, "You wanted me to wake you if I had another one." Groggily he reached for me, "I did" he said. I couldn't let him wrap around me, however, still too freaked out with one foot in the dream and the other trying to grab onto the real world. He understood without me having to say something and merely took my hand. Three minutes later I could hear his soft snores. It was much longer for me, however, before I allowed sleep to take me again.
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    About The Author

    I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery