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The Dark
The Dark

The Dark

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Deep breaths.

I turn the ceiling light off after turning the lamp on, slowly preparing myself to go to bed. Shirt off, shirt on, pants off, pants on.

Deep breaths.

Glasses off, hair tied back, brushing teeth. Alarm light on, lamp off. Blankets prepared, pillows fluffed.

Deep breaths.



Three, my fingers move.

Lights off, I dive into bed, burrowing under my blankets. Eyes closed, thoughts fixed firmly on my newest daydream.

Deep breaths.

Relaxed, finally. Exhaustion of the day taking hold of me, my thoughts drift. Skies of stars darken, fields of gold decay in my mind, and I feel a stare fixed upon me. I stiffen.

Deep breaths.

'It’s nothing,' I tell myself. 'No one, and no thing is there. It’s just your imagination, it’s just anxieties of the day manifesting. Nothing is there. It’s not real.'

White nightgown in near perfect detail. It even has a little bow resting between the sharp collarbones. All so perfectly white.

It’s not real. Deep breaths.

Dark eyes, barely glinting in the darkness, red ringing them. Pale face split by a black, webbed smile, slowly getting wider.

It’s not real. Breathe.

Veins, nearly black under white skin, thick around the eyes and running down porcelain arms.

It’s not real.

Long hair hangs over me, grotesque fingers ghosting over my face.

It’s not real.

I can nearly hear it’s breath.

It’s not real.

It’s so close.

This isn't real.

It's right there. Daring me to keep my eyes closed. Daring me to let it stay.

My eyes snap open, and I turn my head sharply to view the empty space above me. I glance around the small room. Every turn of my head makes me acutely aware of what I can’t see. What lurks there?

Longs limbs, bones jutting out at the joints, all belonging to a humanoid with no face.

I turn again.

A furred creature that may have once been a cat or small dog lying at the foot of the bed.

I sit up a bit.

A pale woman crawling on the ceiling, blood dripping from her mouth.

I glance up.

A man hanging in the corner, trying to speak to me.

I sink down again as I curl up.

Arms reaching over the edge of the bed, clawing for me.

I hold back tears as I pull the blankets over my head.

Dark figures, pale figures, furred creatures, masked men. They all stand in a ring around me, malformed hands hover above, waiting for me to reappear.

I cry until I remind myself.

Deep breaths.

Author Notes: I tend to get, like, night terrors? It only happens when I've been anxious, but it's terrifying. I've never really met anyone who gets things like this, and no one I talk to seems to fully understand, so clearly that means it's time to write. Anyway, please leave reviews, experiences, etc.

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About The Author
About This Story
7 Oct, 2020
Read Time
2 mins
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