I went back to Sonya’s room. I checked her bathroom and closet again. Nothing. I gave a look under the bed. Just dust bunnies and old shoeboxes.
I stood back up and noticed something I must have missed earlier out of the corner of my eye. There was a space created behind the door when left opened the way I left it. The light was low and it appeared there was a shadow hiding behind the cover of the door.
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself.
I took a few steps towards the door.
I took a few steps closer. I thought I saw the shadow behind the door move closer to the wall.
That was it. I had enough. I was a 6’2 205-pound guy in his late-20s afraid of his girlfriend. I stomped up to the door and pulled it shut.
Nothing was behind the door. Something was on top of it.
Perched on the top of the door like a frightened housecat was Sonya. She had maneuvered her barely over five feet and 100-pound frame onto the thing and squatted above me, naked and coated with sweat.
Sonya jumped down at me. She pinned me to the floor. She held me down with a strength I never could have imagined could come from her tiny body.
I looked at Sonya’s face. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, opened wide and set on me like those of a rabid dog, her usual full and voluminous hair was slicked back, her teeth clenched in her mouth which was clenched in a snarl.
Sonya’s hand came down and her nails ripped across my lip, immediately drawing blood. I screamed out and tried to squirm away from her, but could only make it a few inches on the hardwood floors.
Sonya’s nails went from my lips right to my back where they dug in like razors. I tried to swing her off of me. She wouldn’t budge. I felt her teeth dig into my back and chomp down on my soft flesh.
I screamed like a baby.
“PLEASE! SONYA! PLEASE!”
I found that superhuman strength people always say they find deep within themselves when faced with death. I was able to do a push-up and shake Sonya from me for a second. I scrambled to my feet and ran for the bathroom.
I slammed the door behind me as soon as I crashed into the bathroom. I twisted the lock in the door handle. I prayed the bolt lock and the flimsy wood of the door would hold up under the stress Sonya started to put it under like she was a female Jack Torrance.