An Irrational Fear?

Thump, thump… thump… thump, thump. Its echo pulsates on the sound waves of the deafening silence cradling me. Darkness lurks in and around every nook. Blanketing the space within its clutch. Preventing any breech of light. With it brings an uneasy sense of every possible thing that resides in the depths of its confines. The chill that accompanies it penetrates my very core, turning my growing fear into shards of crystalline quartz that prod my every nerve ending. Hyper-aware and on-edge, I dare to reach out. For… what? I don’t know exactly. But I do so slowly. Hesitantly.

Drip… I opened my mouth, but the gasp didn’t follow. It was lost along with the knowledge of how to breathe. Slimy goo glides over my shoulder and down my arm. Its warmth, in stark contrast to the cool air encompassing it, causes goosebumps to steeple across my skin. Drip… Another glob. This time on the top of my head! I can feel it blending in with my hair. Drip, drip… My knee. Then back. Something is behind me. Or… above me? Or… both, maybe? I want to move. To get away from here. From IT. Subconsciously, I scream at my muscles to obey. But they just reflexively curl in on themselves. Stiffening to the point I begin to feel like those marble statues in art galleries!

Blurb, blurb… Gaseous bubbles surface from within the gelatinous body looming over me. The shiver in my spine mimicked their action just before a long, formless tentacle slithered over my lap. It’s encircling my waist so agonizingly slow I’m certain it is assessing me like a python does before devouring its prey whole. Toying with me. Still, I can’t move! Not a muscle. I can’t even tell if I’ve even breathed again yet. With nothing else I can do, I finally accept my fate and pray it’s, at least, swift. So, I close my eyes.

Thump, thump… thump… thump, thump. That sound… It’s a... a… heartbeat. But… not mine. How could it be? I no longer have one.

HUUUUUUH! I wake, choking on the breath taken hostage by my nightmare. Greedily, I pant in an attempt to gulp down enough oxygen to slow the rapids in my veins and calm the dread in my heart.

As my pulse returns to normal and the thunderous pounding in my ears dissipates, so too, the tension in every fiber of my being melts away. Thaws, like a snowman on the first day of spring. And I relax. I feel numb. Physically and emotionally. But I can finally move! Sitting up in bed, I pick the crust from the corners of my eyes and stretch everything from my head to my toes. Just to make sure.

It’s been at least a year since the last time this particular dream haunted my sleep. I had almost completely forgotten about it. Until now. What possibly triggered it this time? I face my fear every single day. Some days I encounter it several times… and nothing. So, why today? I wish I knew the meaning of it.

Groaning, I pry myself up, off of the floor mat I sleep on and stretch one more time. Before taking my first step toward the bathroom, I pause. The object of my fear is there, watching me. Always there wherever I go. As if it were a sentinel guarding its charge. Staring back at it, I shake off the last of the residual effects of the nightmare and chastise myself once more for my ridiculousness.

Click. Ugh… the lights are too bright! Their intensity blinds me momentarily which forces me to fumble my way to the toilet with my eyes shut. Cautiously, I part them little by little until my eyes adjust to the formidable foe. Ahhh… better.

“Well, I may as well start my day.” I announce to myself. “It’s not like I’m gonna go back to sleep after that!”

I take my medicines and prep my dinosaur toothbrush with my bubblegum toothpaste. I know. I’m a grown adult, but I don’t like mint. So, if this is what it takes to convince me to brush my teeth consistently, so be it! Tsh, tsh… the bristles grazed over my teeth and gums as I continued to reflect on the nightmare.

I thought of the first time it came to me. How unprovoked it was. I hadn’t had any personal traumatic experiences that could give meaning or reason to it. I just remember watching a new episode of one of my favorite children’s shows the night before. But I was in the fifth grade! I was old enough to know that what happened in the show wasn’t real. Obviously, my imagination became obsessed with the idea then… and hasn’t gotten bored of it since!

Swish, swish… ptoo! Mmm. The grape mouthwash I found makes the perfect chaser! Back in my room, the first thing I do is push back the black out curtains and open my window to let some fresh air in. Maybe it can cleanse this atmosphere.

“Oh! It’s raining!” I take a slow, languid breath and listen to the droplets of water hitting the leaves of the oak tree beside the house. That’s better already!

I don’t want this version of the nightmare visiting twice in a row. Although I’ve dreamt it a dozen times, each version is slightly longer, slightly more vivid, and slightly more… morbid than the last. It started out with the scene taking place in my third grade classroom and the main focus of the dream was about my classmates and I having to band together, literally, hand in hand forming a human chain to keep me from danger. As soon as that chain broke, I’d wake up. Over time, the build up shortened or changed scenes and the second part lengthened. I sighed thinking about it.

I went over to my dresser to pull out clothes for the day and get changed. Then, brushed my hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. Grrr… my stomach alerted. Following its advice, I made my way to the kitchen. It’s eleven a.m. already and I don’t care for traditional breakfast foods, so I pull-out left-over pizza from the fridge and enjoy it cold. It’s better this way! Green grapes on the side and a cup of milk make it even better. I play some games on my phone while I eat. Then take my dishes to the sink.

It's been almost an hour since I woke up and the nightmare is still bothering me. Unlike any previous one, this one felt more real. Less immanent. As if it was a foreshadowing of something to come. But that’s nonsense!

Looking at my watch, I realized it’s time to leave for my afternoon shift. So, I grabbed my keys and my work bag, put my shoes on and headed toward the door. There was one last thing I needed before I could go. And it hung in the object of my fear. Facing it now, my pulse quickens. Rationally, I know nothing is inside that I didn’t put there myself. Stealing my nerves and blowing out an absurd breath, laughing at this irrational fear of mine, I reached out and turned the knob. In one last motion, I faced my fear and opened the closet. There. See! Nothing. I took my jacket off the hanger, put it on quickly, and closed the door. I left the house so fast that I didn’t even notice the blob of slimy goo that had fallen on the floor in my haste.