My heart rate has increased as the part of my brain that controls my imagination goes into overdrive, as I lie on my bed, staring upwards at where the ceiling should be.
If it wasn’t so inkily DARK.

Why did I have to go and see The Woman In Black? It damn near gave me a heart attack 3 times.

And now I can only imagine that eponymous woman.

That murderous look on her diseased face, shadowed by that bonnet.

Yes, she’s just a fictional character, but seeing her in the play, actually existing, actually REAL and not a character on the page of a book…

It gave me, and is giving me, Tingling-Spine Syndrome. Or to put it another way, the “Heebie Jeebies”.

A creak in the floorboards of the attic above me makes me jump upright.

A cold sweat dampens my forehead.

My heart is wrestling to escape my chest.

I then reason with myself, take some deep breaths and lie down.

I close my eyes for a moment.

I open them.

SHE’S STANDING OVER ME!!!

I blink.

She’s gone.

Damn that play…