Tied In

Chapter 3 Darkness

Night tremors made a harsh reappearance, building powerfully from the violently shaking me out of my sleep. Fear was aroused when I aught for control of my vessel but spazzed in fearful thoughts. Thoughts grew, expanded, then became profoundly destructive and rather terrifying. Opening my eyes, allowing the fear to take a threshold of me and venture away had it already done. A blue fog of light suddenly appeared; layering the entire outskirts of my white oak floor, Dawdling its way to the ceiling.

Curtains flowing up, indistinguishably as the freed waves in a treacherously flowing ocean; bringing a beam of light to feed the empty dark. Naught my ear nor foot could budge to any degree, entirely immobilized from my scalp down to the tip of my toes. Except, my mouth that I shortly came to a notice of, with that knowing I begun to holler, scream and shout. My vocal range had allowed an ever so slight whisper— if that. My body temperature dropped; shortly noticing my comforter was far off my body I seen far beneath my desk—had it been snatched off.

In need to escape one's own self, the hurt of being chained tight down in sorrow with the demand of enduring sufferance is what I touched on while frozen faced up. Grief, anger, sadness nor fear never departed, I'd left it there for a return; without a depiction of myself reembarking upon it once more. Permanence of pain fears me to the T, it will forever be the shadow of your highest selfs spot light for an everlasting time.

Ambiance of the room had sailed away, the curtain waves were down in stillness. The fog made an evacuation out the window. Red film covered over my room as I grew movement in my neck to my wrists down, turning beside led me to see something; perhaps someone. Cocking eyes. Squinting.

Eyes attached to what I saw. It was Sarah, staring far beyond the room almost if she was seeing into a another world. Another place. Sitting oh so still with the posture of a statue; eyes of a doll. A clocks hand would had been around twice more before she looked over at me.

Meanwhile, many unnerving distractions came upon me once I began to reminisce and had no longer monitored her move. Before my eyes, she now was faced at me with purely inky, coal black demoniac soulless satanic eyes. Closing my eyes wishing to wake up, forcing my mind elsewhere but not a please granted. She began sluggishly dragging an object non visible to my own view; graving it against the floor, thudding over each tile closer to me. Revealing it with a maniacal raise.

A Machete. Helplessly vulnerable, talking over my trepidation. Dreams are temporary, paralysis ends and this is all in my hippocampus. "Your not real THIS isn't real," closing my eyes, I affirmatively said then once more expressionlessly, "This isn't real and you're not either." Those words lost sense of relevancy once I widened back my vision, horror—struck instantly in a cold sweat. Gruesomely.

Her hand still upright. Suddenly blood streamed down her nose in chunks; thickly gushing out her mouth; spirting blood profusely out her nostrils onto my forearm. Ice Cold. Felt as the Arctic ocean water had been splatted on me in the course of me being cold already. "SARAH!," I said  seconds before she slung back her arm.

"Sarah pls," not many words to convince since she had not been responsive. In blink of an eyelid, the Sarah I knew was there. Sarah Marie Anderson, the normal brown eyes gal with sensibility; surprised to say I'd been glad to see her. At full throttle she whacks the knife deeply down the center of my chest, their I was looking right back at the slaughterer house fiend.

Up my sternum to down my abdomen I had burning, extrusive, unbearable pain that I've never sensed before. I'd had been eaten alive by lions had I been imagining it. At an attempt to scream out my pain I choked, blood projectile vomited out of me. I watch as Sarah cries, bawls and screams in pitiful tears while she's viewing me in bitter agony. Had this been who Sarah truly was hidden beneath all of just a mask? A monster playing victim?