s l e e p

I woke up this morning to my heart about to pound out of my chest, my whole body shaking. I guess I had a nightmare? I still can’t remember any of it, but I did have to take some pain meds so that my lingering headache wouldn’t interfere with work today.

I’ve been trying to focus on work all day today, but something keeps nagging me. Well, I say “focus”, and I say “work”. I mean, I’ve been trying to finish this little game on my computer that still looks like I’m working. It’s taken me three days, and I’ll finish it whether I have to keep compulsively glancing behind me every five minutes because my brain’s still hung up about whatever I dreamed about last night or not. It would be really nice if it wouldn’t do that. I’m also trying to distract myself from thinking about it too hard, since the memories seem to be just out of my reach, and it’s pretty frustrating.

This time when I absentmindedly look back, I nearly have a heart attack since Catherine is standing there, and I was definitely not expecting that. It’s been a while since Catherine’s stopped by my little workspace. She had started out just giving me odd looks, then graduated to little greetings, then to scaring the shit out of me. She’s worked here for about a month now, I think.

“Damn it, Catherine!” I exclaim, throwing my hand to my chest. I can feel my heartbeat.

Wait...wait a second. Catherine was definitely in my dream last night. I know it. This feeling in my chest, she was definitely there.

I shake my head a little while she laughs awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I didn’t know you were so focused on your…” She leans forward a little, squinting her eyes to see what’s on my computer. I minimize my screen, but not fast enough. “Paperclips? Anyway, I came over here to, uh, possibly invite you to this...event I’m trying to get together this weekend--It’s not completely set in stone yet, but I just wanted to let you know about it.” She clenches her hands together to the point that they turn a slight red.

“Uh...okay? Thanks?” I manage to say before she very quickly turns around and goes back to her desk.

I could’ve sworn I just saw a shadow creep out from under my desk and follow her, the shadow of something that definitely wasn’t actually there. Maybe I should lay off the coffee for a while.

I woke up this morning in exactly the same way as yesterday, except now I know for absolutely certain I saw Catherine in that dream. I saw Catherine, and something was after us.

My head felt like it might explode. I took more pain meds.

I spent most of the morning at my desk with my head in my hands, staring intensely at the stack of sticky notes behind my keyboard, trying not to let the lights get to me any worse. My head hurts so bad, I keep thinking I see shadows darting around. Is this anxiety? It feels like someone’s always behind me, but if I turn around to look too fast, the movement makes my headache worse.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” Catherine asks. I nearly hit my head on my desk, but thankfully I wake up enough to catch myself before that happens.

I fell asleep?

I groan. “Sorry, Catherine, I guess I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night or something. Can I help you?”

“Oh, it’s just, about Friday…” I glance down at my hands as she talks. Why am I so shaky all of a sudden? Why do I suddenly feel like I need to run? I think this is anxiety. I should schedule an appointment with someone.

“...so, do you think you can come?” Her deep brown eyes stare at me expectantly. Have her eyes always been that dark? Or have I just never noticed?

“Uhh…” I sneak a glance at the calendar on my desk, empty as it always is. “I should be able to-”

“Oh, that’s great!” She smiles. “I’ll definitely have the details for you tomorrow.”

Great.

The intense feeling of doom and dread filters away as Catherine gets closer to her desk. I wish I could trade desks with her; all the lightbulbs above her are out for some reason.

I slept for an hour and a half. An hour and a half. I managed to have the lights out for maybe thirty minutes last night before I was overwhelmed with this wild manic state or something where I was convinced there was something lurking through the shadows, waiting for me to fall asleep. I think I must have been hallucinating. Can you get hallucinations from awful headaches? I don’t know. I spent most of the night in a corner with my knees to my chest, darting my eyes around so that nothing could sneak up on me.

I really need to make that appointment.

I should’ve called in sick today. I can’t keep my eyes open. That weird feeling has gone away a little, but damn, I wish it would go away completely. I can’t get anything done, and I don’t usually even want to. Did corporate drug me so that I’d want to do work? That would suck. Can’t say it’s not working though. I’d give nearly anything to be able to focus on work right now.

Catherine doesn’t manage to sneak up on me today, only because the closer she gets, the more I feel like I’m about to vomit.

“Oh...my god, you look awful. You look like you haven’t slept in two weeks. Why are you here?” she asks. I groan.

“Thanks, Catherine, I was really going for that ‘dead’ look.” I have to focus on my breathing so I don’t accidentally spew all over her. “Honestly, I haven’t slept in a while, and I think I’m getting sick.” I sit quietly for a moment. “I think I might be going crazy, Catherine. I’ve been having these awful dreams that I can’t remember and I think I’m hallucinating?”

To my surprise, when I look back up at her, she isn’t looking at me like I’m an idiot. She actually looks concerned. “It sounds like you really need some sleep, dude. I actually have some stuff that helps me out when I can’t sleep, if you want to try some!” She darts back to her desk before I can answer. She moves really fast. Has she always moved that fast?

When she returns, she hands me a few, tells me to take them with water. I don’t remember much else. Somehow, I manage to make it home.

It’s dark. Dark and hot. I can’t see farther than three feet away from me, and it feels like my chest is being crushed by a giant constrictor. Hell, it might be. I can’t turn my head to look. I can’t move at all. It feels like there are a million beetles crawling up my legs. I would give anything to be able to move.

I look down as far as my eyes will physically go. At my feet, the beetles are swarming, forming a pile. Two piles, I can’t tell exactly. I can hear all their tiny little legs scuttling across each other. It feels like they’re holding me in place, holding me captive until something else can get to me.

It feels like whatever has been in my room.

The piles are getting bigger, and whatever’s around my chest is getting tighter. It’s getting hotter, too. I shouldn’t be able to breathe anymore. My lungs feel like they’re melting.

They’re making a person. The beetles are making a person. The beetles are a person, and its face is almost touching mine. Its face isn’t even five inches from mine. Its breath is hotter than the air around us. It shouldn’t be breathing. I shouldn’t be breathing. I can’t breathe.

It creeps even closer to my face. It’s changing. It’s not made of bugs anymore. Its eyes are dark pits, staring hungrily into mine.

It’s Catherine. It took Catherine’s face.

I shouldn’t have taken those pills. I knew sleeping was a bad idea. I knew I should have stayed awake. I knew I should have made that appointment.

I didn’t go to work today. I woke up three hours after my alarm was supposed to go off, wishing I could split my head open to let the pressure out. It was the worst headache I’d ever had. My whole body was shaking, I’m surprised I managed to get the rest of the pain meds in the bottle down.

I remember the dream this time.

Catherine had emailed me the time and place for tonight. Turns out, it’s her birthday. I’d be such a dick to turn her down a few hours before her birthday dinner. I’m already feeling awful that I didn’t get her a gift. I didn’t know it was her birthday.

I should be going to a doctor.

It’s a nice restaurant. I feel underdressed in my work clothes. They’re the nicest I have, it’s not like I didn’t try. Dimly lit, the lights look like candles, that kind of place.

I didn’t realize it was just going to be the two of us.

We sit down and order. I’m grateful for the dark. Catherine looks really nice, but the lighting makes her eyes look like pits. I can’t look at her for long. I just want to make it through tonight. Can I please just make it through tonight? I promise I’ll make that appointment. Hell, I might go to the ER.

Catherine’s talking about some drama I missed at work today. I can’t focus for shit. I feel like shit. I feel something on my leg.

The waiter brings me a hamburger.

I unfold my fancy napkin so I can use the knife to cut my hamburger in half. I’m feeling oddly

self-conscious that I ordered a burger at a place like this, but I like to stick to what’s familiar, especially with my head like this.

A small beetle runs out of my napkin. A beetle was in my silverware. I didn’t imagine that, right?

I accidentally drop the napkin and all my silverware with a clatter.

“Did you see that?” I hiss at Catherine. I had meant it to be more of a whisper. I didn’t want to cause a scene.

She looks confused. Her expression doesn’t change when a beetle runs out of the collar of her dress and onto her cheek, scuttling across her cheek.

Shit. Am I still asleep?

The light above us flickers. That’s not Catherine, all right. I could’ve sworn I was awake. I can read the menu, I can’t read in dreams, right? I’m awake, right?

Catherine, or rather, whatever it is that’s sitting in front of me, smiles a little too wide.

I don’t think it matters if I’m awake or asleep. If I don’t do something while I can move, I don’t know if I’ll have the chance again.

I can’t risk it. I can’t live like this.

I grip the knife.