My sleep was fitful and restless. I tossed and turned throughout the night with no relief. When waking up to use the bathroom, my eyes were crusted over and half-opened. I moaned and ached as I made the fifteen step journey to the toilet. I must have made this trek three different times during the evening. Each time I was more tired and weary than the last time. Finally, an hour before dawn, I was fast asleep, my body was utterly relaxed, and I felt as if I’d slumbered on a bed of feathers.
It must have been near the hour of noon while my eyes were still closed, that I felt myself coming out of my dream state. Before I could open them (my eyes), something dug it’s dirty leather-skinned fingers into my shoulders and whispered, “You only awaken because I allow it. Here is where I live......and wait.”
As the voice spoke, its fingers dug deeper into my shoulders. It pierced the muscle and sinew and caused me to scream in horrible agony. The voice chuckled in defiled amusement. It took pleasure in my pain.
“No one in the awake world can hear you,” it’s whisper was deep and scratched. “Only you can hear you.”
Just when I could feel the sudden tear of my shoulders ripping away from the sockets, I was fully awake and conscious. I was shaky and nervous, so I grabbed my towel and made the eleven step journey to the shower. The second the water touched my skin, I felt a horrible stinging sensation. With the spigot still running, I stepped out and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Both my shoulders were covered with angry black and blue finger mark bruises. They were so definite that I could see fingerprint marks. It’s been like this since moving into this condo across from the convention center. I better find help.
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