rough night
Far off I heard voices in conversation. It seemed to be quite melodic, and I realized that it was no conversation at all, but a song. A very loud song with only one note. I rustled in my sheets and practically jumped as I saw my bedroom wall illuminated in a dance of blue and red, and realized that the one-noted song was the horns of a panicking car. Bleary eyed, I attempted to view the commotion, but another hand grabbed mine and the other settled over my mouth. The grip was cool and firm as I tried to resist, but I wasn't going down this easily. I thrashed, desperate to escape, my elbow colliding with the metal bed frame. Yelping in pain, I sat up with a start, met by only blackness. Gone were the sirens and strange hands. Something tickled my arm. The sensation was smooth and soft like a kiss or a stroke of affection, but it was too continuous and too...wet. Too late I realized that the nightmare was fake, but the gash on my elbow wasn't. The sheets were soaked with blood, and my senses were slapped by the rusty tang. Everything was blood, inky black in night's darkness, and I was drowning in it. I shrieked into my moonlit bedroom as I threw myself into consciousness at last. Confused and quite unsettled, I looked to my clock to see that midnight had long since passed. And then I got up and made some toast.