She had but minutes to live.

Four minutes, perhaps five, left to breathe, left to listen to the beating of a healthy heart soaked with fear. There would never be another moment in her lifetime where her breathing was relaxed and easy, her heart beating lightly in a state of serenity and relaxation. Until she died, all that she would feel was the pain of her throat closing in fright, ended only by the sound of a gunshot.

Her breaths, although shallow and quiet, echoed about the otherwise silent room. She knew her heartbeat was only audible to her own ears, yet to her each sound was like a strike of thunder in the sky. Her body vibrated from the highest positioned strand of hair on her head to the outermost layer of skin beneath her feet. Her eyelids were pulled so far back it was difficult to tell if she even had any at all. Although no direct light appeared in her room so late at night, she could still make out every shape and shadow of the room before her. The foot of her bed, the handle to her closet door, even the picture frame on the wall opposite the one her bed and her back were pressed so tightly against all stood clear. In daylight, she would not give them a second glance. Some nights the objects would be ignored as well, as sleep was the primary goal at the time. But tonight, tonight everything needed to be carefully scrutinized; one last look before her life was abruptly brought to an end.

A sound brought her attention to the closed door in the front corner of her room. Footsteps, one right after the other, grew louder and clearer as they came closer. As she listened, she could not help but envision who was making the sounds on the other side of her door. In her mind, she could see a tall man, with broad shoulders and a square face, frozen in an expression of evil and menace. His arms, thick with rough skin, led to a fisted left hand and gun poised perfect for an impending shot in the right. Although he walked with purpose, he kept his pace slow, as to not alarm his target of the imminent danger. He could not know that she was already awake, ears focused on him, tracking every movement with perfect accuracy. Even with her knowledge of her coming fate, she had no way to change this fixed point in time. She was unarmed; no weapons were available to defend herself. Even if she contorted her body in such a way that she took up the smallest space possible for her petite frame, and shielded herself with various pillows and blankets, she would still not be protected by the speed and damage of a bullet controlled by the skilled operator who yielded the weapon that would destroy her.

The last step she heard was quieter than all the others, as if it was not meant to bring oneself closer to their target, rather it was purposed to bring two feet together again after the journey from the bottom of the stairs on the porch, to the front door, through a hallway, up yet another flight of stairs, and the final ten feet before her front door was reached. He was merely inches away from the door handle now.

Although her fear had reached unimaginable heights before, it could not compare to the unfathomable terror that had immediately followed the chilling sound of flesh touching metal. She knew, although she could not see through the wooden entry to her room, that his free hand had just made contact with the metal knob. Knowing her end was all too close, she could feel two tears form in her eyes, blurring her vision. She tried to blink them away, but her eyelids refused to cooperate, and her ability to regain perfect sight had diminished. Even through the unwelcome drops of water, she could make out a hazy view of her room, although this was not enough to provide the sight needed to know just when her assassin was turning the knob, unblocking the last thing between him and his shot.

The familiar creak of the hinges in desperate need of oiling began to sound. Within seconds he would be stepping through the entryway, locking eyes with his target. He would be shocked for a second, but then his face would twist into a grin as he realized that she was awake the whole time, forced to listen to him come to her as she remained where she was, vulnerable to whatever he had in mind for her. Knowing she was trapped, and that his mission would soon be complete, he would choose to expand the moment, raising his gun slowly, turning off the safety as he did so. He would take aim at her chest, still frozen in fear, and finally pull back his finger that had been longing so desperately to pull the trigger…

Before she could make out a face, another sound filled her room. A familiar beeping sound, although at the moment she could not pinpoint the creator of the noise...

She opened her eyes, then shut them again as the sudden sunlight caused her pupils irritation. Slowly getting used to the light, she looked about the room. All shadows had disappeared, and her door remained closed, just as she had left it before she climbed into bed the night before. She sat up, taking deep breaths, making her chest heave a great deal. She tried to slow the beating of her heart, which was causing pain in her still frightened body. There was no man, no gun, no impending death. She stood up, stretching her arms high above her head. She was safe from her own imagination, at least for as long as the sun was up. Even in the early morning she was fully aware that when the sun set and darkness settled upon the world again that very evening, she would be trapped again, paralyzed with fear of the terrifying possibilities that seem so much more likely at night.