Out-of-Body Experience

The silent darkness of sleep was suddenly interrupted.

Oh and how good it was!

If this slumber session could be compared to something, let's use the idea of glass to portray it. It was smooth, uniform, and apparently delicate and fragile like a pane of the stuff. Because the organized noise blaring from the alarm clock speakers broke the repose being enjoyed as if it were a stone crashing through a window.

Shattering and splintering the peace that Morpheus does bring.

Spider-cracked glass . . . that is exactly what the blood vessels in his eyes were resembling. As if they were the tentacles from a deep-sea nightmare trying to snare and entangle the hapless pupil, and drag it down to the depths from where it came from.

It's a high probability that had rest been fully achieved and allowed to rise naturally and comfortably . . . well rested eyes wouldn't look like these peepers here.

The owner of these definitely would not mind making the culprit of this heinous act of high treason go to sleep themselves.

But this was an alarm that was set. There was a purpose, a reason, to wake up at this time. Right? So get up. Why else would it be set? Get up. It is a struggle for sure to achieve this monumental task placed before us. It would probably be easier for the dead to arise.

Even though our subject has no recollection of setting it. Nevertheless . . . we still have to get up. If not for anything then to turn off that screaming, wailing siren of an alarm. Although it is a welcome symphony to wake up to . . . our subject must get up.

To our surprise . . . his body was still asleep.

Odd . . . he was über lucid by this time, yet his limbs were completely unresponsive. He had that tingling sensation you get when your foot drops asleep, but it was an all encompassing situation now taking him over his entire body.

Granted that our subject here is not a modern day Samson, but he is very far from being soft like a wet paper bag. So it should come as no surprise that panic struck him when he could not budge a millimeter. Horror flashed across his mind and permeated every single fiber of his sentience as that panic set in, when he realized his voice failed him as well.

Alright now. This was, and to quote a blue "magical" helper that needed to be released to grant your request, starting to get weird . . .

His whole entire body was starting to convulse with the shaking and quivering of his straining muscles and ligaments. He was now digging deep within himself, rallying strength from places previously unrecognized by him.

He was having a wrestling match with an unseen aggressor. And it seems our protagonist was on the losing end of things here.

Feeling was utterly gone from the realm of reality that we thought was our plane of consciousness. Fair enough, not long ago being conscious was a luxury we were fine doing without.

Now . . . horror mixed in with panic gets you desperation. In this realm of existence, this is the headline we fall under. One last oorah (for now but most definitely not the last one for this chap) and wouldn't you know it ladies and gentlemen, but we have movement. Scenes of old black and white films would aptly fit the "It's alive !" moniker we are witnessing here.

I am not a learned man and never have I been as presumptuous enough to consider myself smarter than the average bear (a squirrel perhaps) . . . but our champion here, who not but a mere few seconds ago was unable to budge or gain any momentum of any sort whatsoever, was now on some superhuman act type stuff. He catapulted himself from the bed. As if Chuck "The Beard" Norris were in the proverbial hyperboled (so to speak) flesh doing push-ups on the moon.