Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2018
There is someone in my house.

It's late at night and I can hear the sound of vegetables being chopped in the kitchen.
I am supposed to be home alone;
all of my family is out of town.

Why do I hear someone in my house?

Hiding in my room,
I wait.
Could this be just another hallucination?
Could this really be happening?

There is someone in my house,
and I know it now,
because the chopping stops.
I hear footsteps.
I pull the covers over my head,
as if being completely covered in my comforter
will make me invisible to the stranger creeping in my house.

There is a child at my bedroom door.
She is very small and very young.
She barely is taller than my arm rest on my desk chair.
She is staring at me with the one eye not being covered by her hair.
Her hair is long and midnight black,
the street lights pouring in from outside are visible in her hair,
creating a silver glow to her dark complexion.
Her head is cocked to one side,
hair falling in her face.
I start to move and realize I'm paralyzed.
I try to speak but I cannot move my mouth either.

There is a man in my doorway.
He appears suddenly,
like the wind on a chilly day.
He's tall and has broad shoulders.
It's obvious he never skips out on the gym.
He has a pale complexion,
his skin glows in the amber street lights.
He moves swiftly,
taking two long strides to reach my bed.
In my head I'm screaming,
in all reality the only sound that could be heard,
is the sound of the plastic the man is tying around me.
Plastic wraps around my
throat,
mouth,
arms,
legs,
and I still cannot move.
I cannot breathe.
Plastic wraps perfectly around my throat,
keeping me from being able to breathe easily.
I cannot even open my mouth to gasp for air,
I am completely restrained and paralyzed with fear.

There is a man in my bedroom,
and he picks me up with ease and tosses me into my hallway
before checking the other rooms.
The voice in my head echoes,
You're dreaming,
Wake up Drew.
He is not real.
That child is not real.
You're suffocating.
Your arms are burning.
You're not breathing.
You must wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up!
Wake up now, Drew!

With all the energy I had,
I catapult out of my bed.
Breathing heavily,
I rub my arms,
happy to feel they are no longer burning.
I think to myself,
thank God this was all just a nightmare.
I look up and see

There is a man standing in my doorway;
I'm no longer dreaming.
I had an awful awful nightmare. I believe it was sleep paralysis. I'm so sick and tired of having nightmares all the time. God how I wish they would stop.
Drew Vincent
Written by
Drew Vincent  23/Gender Fluid/Florida
(23/Gender Fluid/Florida)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems