the creatures

I moved my hand back and forth until I could not tell if it was there or there. My back pressed against my blanket. Darkness surrounds me. A blue curtain covers my tall window. I always try to peek through them before anybody would see me. My grey itchy pillows laid from the bottom of my bed to the top. They were sort of type of wall protecting me from what was out of my bedroom. Because what larked out there was dangerous to my sanity.

Every time I step into my bedroom, that surely someone will call a closet, I instantly relax. My once tense shoulders would fall to my knees, every time. It was as if my bedroom cleanses me of whatever the outside always contagious me with. 

My thin feet pressed against the wooden floor. Carefully they stepped and pressed like a ballerina doing their routine on stage. Everyone would be so amazed by the ballerina they would always give them a standing ovation. In this case, my audience was not amazed. They didn’t even exist until I step too loudly or I was seen when I would be sneaking down the stairs that always had loose steps. No, my audience despises me. When they heard the sound of someone coming down the steps they would turn their purple heads towards me in sync.

Eyes meeting my thin pale body. They saw their soon to be victim. Their eyes would droop down to their noses. Previously they were all smiles and laughs filled with happiness and a feeling they were glad to be alive. Now the laughter was screams instead of those beautiful laughs. The deep screams were filled with wickedness. They echoed through the white room. Their smiles were frowns filled with rotting teeth that bugs came out of. That tormented look projected from corner to corner. 

I felt vulnerable. My back was faced with the living room door where someone, anyone could grab me and decide to feed on me. They would live off the taste of my fear. They would love it when it filled their empty stomachs. But these things in my living room did not consume. They never did. Instead, they did something much worse. They always did. Their long, dirty with malice, talons would pierce my skin. They would weave them into my skin until I would cry surrender. 

Those words. Those words would scream weakness to my perpetrators. They always fed on it. They could not live without these emotions. These emotions always kept them full-bellied for a while. But eventually, they would have to feed again. They would be starving one day and the next day they would be full. 

I would struggle on the floor trying to get up. My arms flailing across the floor trying to get up. But I would eventually give up, every time. This was the type of thing that my audience relish to watch. They always came out to see this no matter what they were doing.

Laughter filled the room that showed no love, no emotion except hate. I always felt mad at the world. Mad at these creatures that live in my living room. But above all, I hated myself to no end. Why had I thought I would not be caught those thousands of times I attempted to sneak into the living room that led to the kitchen. Because all I ever wanted was some water to glide down my dry throat. It always felt like sandpaper. It hurt to swallow down the thin amount of spit that surrounded my tongue and teeth. When I did swallow down my acid-filled spit that burned my stomach. I always felt like vomiting. I just wanted to fill this emptiness that never went away.

Laying on the cold floor that burned my skin. I slowly looked up at the creatures in purple. I must have been frowning so much. I also hate it when I have to go to this scene over and over again. This routine was the most repetitive thing that ever happened. I always knew what was going to be said. I knew when they would throw their talons at me. I knew where they would throw talons at me.

I always know that I would surrender and weakness would be evident on my face. That whatever I do I had no control. So why not test this scenario. Maybe someday this situation would be different. For example, maybe the creature that always wears a cap on its head and a coat around its shoulders would aim it talons at my legs instead of my thin torso. I relish in this fantasy. I hoped and prayed to a God I didn't even know were there that this would all go away. That someday I didn’t have to have nightmares about what happens at night.

The creatures in a small act of kindness, but it was probably was a mockery. Took me in their strong arms and held me close their chest. I wanted to scream and cry, but it wouldn’t help.

When this happens to makes me think that this never happens. That I just have the most vivid dreams known to man.

The creature with a bracelet around its wrist bends down and kisses me on top of my head and says goodnight to me in a high pitch voice. They wrap me in a blanket that suffocates me to no end. But once I’m wrapped in its warm aroma I’m instantly feeling a sense of sleep and my head hits my pillows.

I dream of my legs pumping out speed. That I feel the cold wind across my face as I plummet into it. My muscles ache, but I know that if I stop they will capture me. Hold me back from what is waiting for me across the giant tree that looks like a man in its shadow. My hands always reach out trying to grasp at the air trying to keep going because it feels like there is a wall in my way to my freedom.

Then hands reach around my mouth and pull me towards them. And I know I lost. Because if I can’t win in my dreams then I can’t win in real life.

Screams fill my room. My breath comes out in small gasps. Hands are shaking. I look around my room and see things that weren’t there before. Posters hang around the square room. My pillows are green and they’re soft. My window is open where I can look outside and not be afraid to see the outside world. 

I think to myself over and over. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay. It was all a very bad dream. A very bad dream. It's all over, they can't get you. They don't even now where you are. It's all the past. Forget about it.