little horror story? i try :) enjoy this!
some people say fear is a good thing. that it helps you grow, helps you become a better person.
i couldn’t disagree more.
fear is nothing but an anchor, holding you back from achieving what you want. and i fucking hate it.
sometimes, you choose what you fear. you select a fear, and stick to it. some people are afraid of spiders, some are afraid of heights, some are scared of walking by themselves. it really makes me wonder, is that all those people are afraid of? because honestly, i think there are certain situations that can be scary to anyone.
i found myself in one of those situations.
the covers felt heavier than ever, trapping me to the bed. i don’t think the covers were all that held me back. there we have it, the anchor, fear.
soft wind came from the barely open window, hitting my sweaty face and sending shivers down my spine. i couldn’t shake the feeling away.
the ceiling fan barely made any noise, but it was definitely on. why was it on, if the window’s open? no, the right question is, why is the window open? i always close the window before going to bed.
the alarm clock in my bedside table read 3am, bright red digits screamed at me, almost as if they knew how i felt.
and what i felt was nothing but raw, overwhelming fear. and it lingered, almost having a physical form, almost being visible to everyone who dared to look at it.
i knew exactly what caused this terrible feeling, yet my mind couldn’t possibly be able to register the specific thing that made me sweat and shake under my heavy covers.
there is someone in here with me.
no, not someone. something. i didn’t know if it was a human-like creature, lurking in the shadows, or maybe a wild animal, waiting for the right time to attack.
maybe it wasn’t that. maybe the presence was a ghost, an entity trying to haunt me, intending to scare me off. and oh, how it was working.
part of me wanted to get up. run away, maybe jump from the window. another part of me was filled with courage and pride, and wanted to go after this presence, try and scare it as it did me. most of me, however, just wanted to sink further under the covers, hide away from the world and whatever was in my room.
as i was trying to regulate my breathing and convince myself i was overreacting, i felt it shifting. i felt it moving closer.
why can’t i see it? where is it? i know it’s here. i know it’s real. so why can’t i see it? my eyes weren’t closed. ceiling fan, alarm clock, window, i can see it all. so why can’t i see it?
my eyes burn and water, tears threatening to fall. my forehead and back are already soaked, cold sweat running through my pale skin.
i closed my eyes, squeezing my eyelids together until they hurt. my fingernails dug on my palm, possibly drawing blood.
and as i awaited the attack, the final strike, my eyelids opened, and i sat up in bed. looking around my room, i saw nothing. the alarm clock was still there, and it still read 3am, the ceiling fan was on.
my breathing was somehow heavier, and my chest hurt. my skin felt cold and sweat still ran through my body, but i was safe now. a nightmare. that’s all it was. i was safe.
laughing, i run my hands through my hair, and the covers feel comfortable now, and don’t hold me to the bed. i was really safe now.
but nothing lasts forever. still laughing, i turn to the window.
open. the window is open.
i’m not laughing anymore.
