Sleep

February 9, 2011
By Ma&#39Ree Fakhouri BRONZE, Galt, California
Ma&#39Ree Fakhouri BRONZE, Galt, California
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The Drowsy demons hook into my flesh and pull me down, trailing blood behind. We start this decent in a clear, heated ocean. Wading in the warmth, my toes twitch. Something, some silky thing, nibbles at my toenails. Blood? I feel it cold, leaving my body. I have been cut! Whatever was circling my feet slid its teeth into the tips of my toes. I inhale deep with my diaphragm and push myself under the water to confront my attacker. Within seconds a heavy force pounds against my cheekbone and covers my face, stealing my oxygen and throwing it into the water to float away as a cloud of bubbles. No air, like an eel darted down my throat and lodged itself between my vocal chords. All at once talons dig hard into my forearms. My calves are bounded my sheets; a pillow is pressed forcefully over my face. It turns into a struggle. I am fighting with all my strength, I am flailing. Every advance I make is shut down by the sheets. The fangs tear into and under muscle, the fabric wears away the flesh on my ankles. My warm ocean fades, red unfolds over the water. I cannot see, the salt water stings my eyes. I cannot breathe, I have never had the gills for it. I cannot extend this combat any longer. I give up, I fall asleep.


The Drowsy demons have pulled my under sheets and shackled me there. My head bound to my pillow. Complete silence as current reality melts into unconscious reality. This is torture. This is sleep.


The author's comments:
I used to constantly write. Recently I stopped. This is my first attempt in a very long time.

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