Paraylzed By Sleep

I was roused from a deep sleep, my eyes refusing to open past small slits. The darkness outside my window showed the late hour, and my heavy attitude told me I hadn't been sleeping long. No reason to be awake. I rolled over to resume my sleep, but the thumping wouldn't stop. My sleep addled brain couldn't place the source of the noise, and I hardly cared at all. A rhythmic pounding on the floorboards downstairs irritated my persona more. I covered my head with a blanket. The thumping came running up the stairs.

Running up the stairs?

How do I know it was running?

Was someone in my home?

My foggy brain seemed to take hours to process these thoughts. My heart began pounding. My blood began to rush in my ears. Had to get up. Someone was coming. Someone was here.

Intruder!

Burgler!

Murderer!

Why won't I wake up! In the gloom, a towering shadow fills my doorway. It's form is oddly shapeless and changing, like a jerking, twitching beast on two legs. It begins to mutter and whisper, but I can't make out the words. I try to scream. I try to wake. I try to flail.

Anything.

But nothing.

My ankle is grabbed in an unseen grip and I'm forcefully dragged from my bed. I finally scream, but I also awaken. I sit up in bed, rubbing my aching head and sore muscles. I don't believe I'm awake. I pinch and slap myself, but my brain still won't wake up. And in my quiet desperation, a thumping is heard from downstairs.