It Watches


It was a Tuesday night when I realized my reality had come to an end. I thought my experience right before death would have been different. I didn't see my future whizz by in an uncontrollable flurry, no future wife or child appeared before me. My last visible memory consisted of a white wall painted by a greenish glow from my alarm clock.

I cannot tell you what occurred, or why I gave into that monster, but I will tell you the story from my point of view. Realize that my memory is fickle, and throughout the years I have bent my thoughts around this one event. Thinking back, I had become so bored with life, everyone spewing the same bullshit commentary passing off as insight into a topic completely unknown to them. Spreading useless ideas like viruses across the internet begging for attention from others. Normal life had become so monotonous and predictable, maybe I gave in because I simply wanted a change of scenery. Whatever the case something that night forced me to give up my humanity, and placed me in this cushy white room.

I lay on my stomach, my head turned away from my room. My arms lay to my sides at the edges of my bed. My legs spread-eagled touched each corner of my bed, taking in every inch of comfort from my new queen bed. If I hadn’t been so open that night maybe It wouldn't have come for me. Who knows, I was already at my mental tipping point after the accident three years prior, it pushed me the last extra bit down the rabbit hole.

When my eyes opened I immediately knew, I had of course been in this situation hundreds of times before. Every night It visited me in my dreams. In fact, I had become so accustomed to this recurring dream that I trained myself to recognize and ignore it. I was so numb to the dream that I would lay still waiting for it to end with blind indifference.

The dream was simple; I would be lying in bed and I would feel a presence behind me staring at my doorway and walking closer. In the past I would roll over and try and escape from my unnamable creation treading towards me. Being a dream though I was never able to get away, my motions were limited like walking through black tar. And in the end, It would grab me, and thankfully the dream would end. Covers would be thrown about everywhere, and I would be shivering with sweat. As the years, past, and this dream became a regular occurrence, I grew accustomed to it. The dream would check all the boxes of a nightmare, where I was unable to scream, move fast, or fight back. So, I wouldn’t roll over to greet It head on, instead, I would wait for It’s cold clammy hands to touch my shoulder so I could jerk awake and it would end. After settling my breath and heart, I could return to my sleep without worry or fear.

That night was different though, It toyed with me. At first, I found the dream fascinating. It was the first time in years this dream had changed. Things seemed different, more real. The usual boxes to check of a nightmare were not filled. There was also fact that before, I never been this aware during a nightmare. Normally my head would become clouded, ideas and actions wouldn’t seem clear. Now, in this dream I could feel my bed defined underneath me, the cover draped over my legs, the cushion engulfing my body, cool fabric pressed against my stomach. Then I became aware of the fact that it was still behind me. Standing still, not moving. While, I was no longer afraid of this dream I was becoming increasingly impatient to get it over with.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)