Jan 2012
With my face comfortably buried into the cushion of the sofa, my body lay fast asleep. My dream gets interrupted by a startling crash. Eyes shot open and I quickly scan the room. I didn’t see anything that seemed to be broken. I could feel my head swell with confusion while I lay motionless on the sofa. I stuff my face back into the cushion and carefully listen, hoping to not hear anything. After a few seconds, I hear the kitchen door slowly squeak open. I didn’t want to believe my ears so I lift my head to look over toward the door. My eyes find a little girl in the doorway. She stood for a while gazing into my eyes while I stare right back at her. Something about her is extraordinarily intimidating. Eventually she starts wandering over to me with silent footsteps and she plants her feet to position herself in front of me. Again with the staring, I sit up and choke on my words. Then I notice that she’s hiding something from me. She’s holding something behind her back. In confusion, I **** my head sideways mostly because I want to try and get a glance at what it is. Though, her intense stare stops me from peeking around her. She has it. She tucks something away in her arms, but I can’t comprehend any of it. I don’t see anything, but she acts like she’s got something.
"What is it?" I ask.
Her hands come around from behind her and she holds up her hands as if she’s grasping something heavy. A box? Her fingers tremble and they're strictly holding on real securely. The spaces between her hands and fingers are empty, but her imagination tells me that she actually has something to show me. I cannot see it. How can I not see it? Something is there. I can see it in her eyes. In her eyes is a reflection. Her eyes show that she’s holding out a box right out in front of me. I look back down at her hands. Still empty. My eyes jump back up into hers. The box is nicely wrapped with colored paper and a pretty bow. I hesitantly reach out with sweaty palms and anxiously put forth an effort to lay hands on what she might be holding. Carefully, my hands maneuver between her hands. Not feeling a thing. With my hands remaining in search, I glance back to her eyes. I watch my hands go right through the box. I am appalled with the image I set focus on. How is this happening? What does she expect me to do? Take the present?
Suddenly I feel something behind me, a cold nudge. I spontaneously react by turning my head to scan the deserted room that lie just over my shoulder. I spot a mirror. I see myself on the couch with the little girl standing in front of me offering me the present. I then turn to look at her, but she’s gone. I gasp with disgust; I stare deeply into the mirror, but see only my reflection. There’s something definitely wrong. My eyes look confused. I walk over to get a better look. With a concentrated stare, I study my own eyes. The trance is broken by the blink of my refection. I stare but my reflection blinks. A simple blink transforms the eyes, eyes that are not familiar to me at all. Bloodshot and mean, the eyes of a demon. The demon blinks again, but I know I’m holding my eyes open. This is not my reflection. It can’t possibly be. My heart aches with danger, however I cannot take my eyes away. My thoughts are drifting in many different directions, except I know I should maintain focus. I feel my hand move up to touch the mirror. The demon violently reaches out faster than I could wince. I swirl around on the ***** of my feet to try and escape her grasp but she seizes the back of my shirt in her fingers. The fingers pull me back and I can’t get away. The little girl reappears by my feet. I yell out to her for help but this time her eyes are bloodshot along with the demon’s. She pushes the imaginary present into my chest with a force that I wasn’t expecting. My breath escapes me and the box is too heavy. The demon manages to slip her whole arm around my head reveling my neck way out in the open. She extracts a blade and holds the cold metal against my throat. I can feel myself drip with sweat and I can’t move a muscle. Everything inside me is too tense to move. The heavy box won’t release from my grip. I try to let go, but it weighs my arms down. Shaking with emotions that swarm around in my stomach like angry rabid hornets, I feel a lump form in my throat. I read messages from my surroundings, I know that something terrible is about to happen. Control is not something in my reach; I can’t do anything to help myself. I try to scream, but the lump in my throat extinguishes all sound I try to project.
With one full swift motion of the demon’s hand, my neck is sliced wide open. Everything goes dark. My eyes shut tightly as my knees hug the floor. My face then faces the floor and I can see what I mess I’ve become. No more breath, no more light, no more life, is this the end? Does this pain tell the truth? I wouldn’t say that, but what can I say?
I aim with all my effort for one more final deep breath. I suddenly open my eyes and **** in air to fill my lungs. I look around and I am on the couch with no harm at all. My hands are free to run around my neck in search for blood. I don’t feel any pain or open wound. I sigh in relief and calmly lay back down. Before I try and go back to sleep, I see the girl standing at the door.
"What is it?" I ask.
Her hands come around from behind her and she holds up her hands as if she’s grasping something heavy. A box? Her fingers tremble and they're strictly holding on real securely. The spaces between her hands and fingers are empty, but her imagination tells me that she actually has something to show me. I cannot see it. How can I not see it? Something is there. I can see it in her eyes. In her eyes is a reflection. Her eyes show that she’s holding out a box right out in front of me. I look back down at her hands. Still empty. My eyes jump back up into hers. The box is nicely wrapped with colored paper and a pretty bow. I hesitantly reach out with sweaty palms and anxiously put forth an effort to lay hands on what she might be holding. Carefully, my hands maneuver between her hands. Not feeling a thing. With my hands remaining in search, I glance back to her eyes. I watch my hands go right through the box. I am appalled with the image I set focus on. How is this happening? What does she expect me to do? Take the present?
Suddenly I feel something behind me, a cold nudge. I spontaneously react by turning my head to scan the deserted room that lie just over my shoulder. I spot a mirror. I see myself on the couch with the little girl standing in front of me offering me the present. I then turn to look at her, but she’s gone. I gasp with disgust; I stare deeply into the mirror, but see only my reflection. There’s something definitely wrong. My eyes look confused. I walk over to get a better look. With a concentrated stare, I study my own eyes. The trance is broken by the blink of my refection. I stare but my reflection blinks. A simple blink transforms the eyes, eyes that are not familiar to me at all. Bloodshot and mean, the eyes of a demon. The demon blinks again, but I know I’m holding my eyes open. This is not my reflection. It can’t possibly be. My heart aches with danger, however I cannot take my eyes away. My thoughts are drifting in many different directions, except I know I should maintain focus. I feel my hand move up to touch the mirror. The demon violently reaches out faster than I could wince. I swirl around on the ***** of my feet to try and escape her grasp but she seizes the back of my shirt in her fingers. The fingers pull me back and I can’t get away. The little girl reappears by my feet. I yell out to her for help but this time her eyes are bloodshot along with the demon’s. She pushes the imaginary present into my chest with a force that I wasn’t expecting. My breath escapes me and the box is too heavy. The demon manages to slip her whole arm around my head reveling my neck way out in the open. She extracts a blade and holds the cold metal against my throat. I can feel myself drip with sweat and I can’t move a muscle. Everything inside me is too tense to move. The heavy box won’t release from my grip. I try to let go, but it weighs my arms down. Shaking with emotions that swarm around in my stomach like angry rabid hornets, I feel a lump form in my throat. I read messages from my surroundings, I know that something terrible is about to happen. Control is not something in my reach; I can’t do anything to help myself. I try to scream, but the lump in my throat extinguishes all sound I try to project.
With one full swift motion of the demon’s hand, my neck is sliced wide open. Everything goes dark. My eyes shut tightly as my knees hug the floor. My face then faces the floor and I can see what I mess I’ve become. No more breath, no more light, no more life, is this the end? Does this pain tell the truth? I wouldn’t say that, but what can I say?
I aim with all my effort for one more final deep breath. I suddenly open my eyes and **** in air to fill my lungs. I look around and I am on the couch with no harm at all. My hands are free to run around my neck in search for blood. I don’t feel any pain or open wound. I sigh in relief and calmly lay back down. Before I try and go back to sleep, I see the girl standing at the door.
