Paralysis

Dreaming, your stomach feels weightless in your throat as you find yourself falling into a darkened chasm with no idea when or how long you have been descending. Looking up, you notice a trickle of light, a possible source of where you may have befallen. Reaching out to the light, you try to escape as the glow suffocates in the surrounding blackness. Fear and loneliness encase you like a mother’s womb and you succumb to the bleak surroundings, forfeiting any fight left inside.

It’s over, you think to yourself.

           4:13    

In a jolt, you wake and your eyes forcefully open to familiar territory. The room glows a deep red as the projection from the digital table-top clock shines into the desolate night, illuminating the subtle silhouettes within it. You catch your breath but realize the only thing able to move is your eyes and your consciousness. You are frozen.  Frantically, your vision scans what little scenery occupies your perception; the clock above your head reads 4:13 through rapid blinks as you let your pupils adjust to the searing crimson. The Nordic dresser displays your lofty laundry goals which sits adjacent to the bamboo headboard hovering above your skull. Before you, the outline of your body reflects in a crimson glow on the blank 50” screen settled on the media stand perpendicular to your bed. You can just barely make out the plaid pattern sprawled across your body, encasing, as you panic to be freed. The pictures on your wall stare at you ominously.

Further exploration causes you to notice the ominous void nestled in the corner at the bottom of your eyesight. You can feel the black mass looming precariously, the figure gathering energy from its surroundings. It doesn’t belong. It pulsates, unrhythmically, disjointed. Suddenly, the form begins to shift. It weaves and contorts its shape menacingly. Limbs sprout and stretch as they jut across the walls and lunge into the floor, propelling the form from ground level into the air. The disheveled darkness slowly begins drifting towards your bed and you hear the rasp of its breath as it takes every stride in anguish. A silent cacophony in a wave of numb terror.

           4:14

You wriggle and fight and yell internally. Neurons fail to carry the message to their intended targets; your body remains motionless. The panic builds inside you as the presence disappears from your gaze. Your eyes flutter as they try to focus on where the mass has migrated. Undetected, its limbs reach the end of your bed and cause it to lower under the immense power. Slowly, the blanket begins to slide off your body. Your shoulders, chest, hip, knees and finally feet all gradually become exposed to the elements. The cool night air tickles your exposed skin. Goosebumps. Your eyes transfix on the television, watching your reflection as the mass tosses the blanket aside and begins to crawl up your body. A front row seat to your own hell.

You watch as the outstretched fingers jaggedly creep up your calves, feeling each digit burn your skin like lit cigarettes. The mattress creaks as it attempts to support the extra weight. You sink into the newly formed crater, mummifying your corpse.

4:15

You close your eyes, tight. Maybe if you pay no attention to it, the beast will cease to exist. Your immature actions are immediately invalidated as you feel the monster plant more extremities into the bed around you and begin to encapsulate your frame. You feel the mass slowly lower itself onto your body, your chest aches as you fight for breath. The shapeless form shrouds your presence. You hear the figure breathing in tune with your gasps as if it were mimicking your struggle. The long wheezes break the silence in the room. If this were it, it would be time for your body to regain its strength and fight back. Paralyzed. Nothing. You’re trapped in your own useless cadaver as the tomb begins to irradicate what hope you have left.

The figure leans in close. You can feel the searing breath paint the back of your neck as the smell of burnt plastic and tar attacks your nostrils. The monster stops moving. You can’t even see your reflection on the television. You are lost. Just then, it begins to speak. “Try as you will,” the low harsh voice crawls in your ears and infiltrates your mind, “you cannot escape me.” You struggle. You can’t. “I will aways be here, lurking, waiting. I am your shadow, your force, what awaits you. I warned you, told you to leave.” You struggle. You can’t. “I am eternal.” Its last gasp singes your nerves and traumatizes your core.

4:16

 You shoot up. Your entire spirit is released all at once and a thousand impulses react, directing you to sit straight up in your bed. Sweat drains rapidly from your forehead, down your cheek, slows at your neck and nestles on the already damp collar of your shirt. In a momentary lapse of confusion, you try everything you can to breathe once again. Air quickly fills your lungs and you feel the oxygen loading your blood stream and kick starting your extremities. You scan the room. Red. No black, just a red glow. The reflection of yourself stares back at you sullenly.

You reach for the half-crumpled pack of Marlboros and the lighter resting on your bedside table just beside the clock. You shakenly raise your hand to grab one of the cigarettes and slowly bring it to your mouth. With your other hand, you place the lighter at the crux of the smoke and in and instant, strike a flame. The spark briefly blinds you as it turns the tobacco into a glowing coal at the tips of your fingers. You inhale, deeply. The smoke fills the room. The stream emanating off the cigarette enters your nose and tickles your sense of smell. Your nerves begin to calm. Your mind races. You have no idea what to do next. You exhale.

4:17

A faint hint of burnt plastic and tar still fills the air.

You must move.