I laid in bed, my face pointed against the dark corner of the wall. My hair was meshed into the pillow with the heat and sweat of slumber. It was 4 a.m. as it blinked on the alarm. The table on which the alarm sat felt so far from me; the illuminated numbers were the only light in the darkness. The blinking stopped and there was stillness, blackness. I moved my body so that I could feel my skin. I held my hands flat against the bed, and stared. Nothing.
Then there peaked a light from above. Among the shadowy swirls that had formed from the tricks of my eyes and imagination something beyond took notice of me, and it opened what can only be described as a door. Yes, through that door, there was a light and a being. I deeply inhaled; my voice would not release. I wondered if I simply rolled my body if I could fall to the floor, and I could reach the door, which would lead to the safety of the next room – to the safety of the blessed bedroom hall light!
Then, I screamed. No, there was a scream. Hands were shaking, yelling for me to awaken as my teeth ground into my gums. The hideous being was still above me, and it began falling from the luminescence; it grew larger above, arms and legs and eyes.
My body shook, convulsed, I didn’t want to look toward the light and the evil, but, if I turned, I felt pain, gnashing nails at the corners of my arms, at my belly.
It was falling faster and faster – faster and faster. The sweat and the pain and the voices. I wrenched. Faster and faster! No!
And then I awoke, abruptly. My body trembling. My eyes tired. And I heaved from the sensation of weight on my chest. I looked up above.
“You’re okay. We’re almost there. Stay with me.”
Sirens blared. My salvation was there, salvation from it. My escape…a brief, yet welcome, sanctuary from what came toward me in the night, what always comes toward in the dreadful darkness.