The one night coma

The pressure on my chest was unbearable. My arms and body felt like I was stuck to the bed. The huge figure analyzed me until bricks of tears started to arrive because it'd stared to long. Its eyes took control of my soul. I could no longer blink my eyes, move or cry out for help. Tons of pressure piled on to my chest. The gripe pain laid on my chest like a new born baby who was fast asleep on his mother's chest. I figured someone could hear me but each cry was unable to escape from my vocal cords. The figure writhing hands wrapped swiftly around my neck and put even more excruciation on my chest. Death was calling my name. I felt almost... dead. I felt stuck. It was hard to breathe. The more I exhaled it felt like I was seconds away from my chest caving in. Hammering on my chest made it even harder for me to succeed in waking up. As I lied still, the chilling breeze touched my skin instantly. Goosebumps arrived and my first instinct was to grab my blanket but I couldn’t. My body sunk into my bed like a casket that was getting put six feet under. It was devouring my body. Minutes went by and I could feel my fingers twitching. It was like I was paralyze on certain parts of my body. I was able to move again. Opening my eyes was like a breath of fresh air. Sweat dripped down my body exquisitely causing the silk material of my pajamas to melt. I clutched my chest while inhaling and exhaling deeply. The huge figure had disappeared and I quickly turned on my lamp. I looked in the mirror, afraid of my reflection, looking at the person before me. A red print resided in the center of chest. My fingers brushed against it and I looked at it like a permanent tattoo. I loved it. I was hoping that when I went to sleep again I would wake up with another one.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback