The absence of light had something sinister in it. Strangely though, I wasn’t afraid. I could almost feel the density of the darkness, its pressure on my skin, cold and itchy. A scent of sage, rather inapposite, had a surprisingly calming effect. I wasn’t walking, I was floating steadily forward. I couldn’t see the ground below me, but I was quite sure it was there, it must’ve been the gravity keeping me from drifting away. I focused on the silence with my eyes closed as it slowly started to transform into a muffled noise, sort of an electronic disturbance. It became louder, I tried to open my eyes, unsuccessfully, sensing the light appearing, through my eyelids. Then it became unbearable. I wanted to cover my ears, but my hands were unresponsive.
“It’s time. You know what to do.”
I opened my eyes to find a rabid pig’s head an inch from my face, clenching its sharp teeth, its bloody eyes staring at me, with a horrid yet euphoric grimace. The sound its jaw reminded me of rusted metal breaking into pieces. It could swallow me in one second. And it surely will.
“Wake up, you pathetic insomniac. You will never learn how to dream. What a waste.”
The scream pinned to the inner side of my lips was indecisive. I couldn’t breathe.
“Wake up, damn it!”
Breathe in… one, two, three, four, five… hold… one, two, three, four, five… breathe out. Ok, I’m awake. I’m here. I’m now.
I’m laying in bed thinking, sure, I will dedicate 5 minutes of my time to you, but just 5, starting from now. I will try to figure out where did you come from, and why did you decide to disarrange me, again. And yes, if you must know, I do feel tired as hell, but it is nothing a nice cup of matcha won’t fix.
image source: unshplash
Title inspired by Nightmares by the sea by Jeff Buckley