Paralyzed in the night — @belleartmovement (english version)

Paralyzed in the night — @belleartmovement (english version)

Alina Simu

Close your eyes. Now, open them. The room is as you know it. The same white dresser, now spotted in grayish tones, stripped by the shadows allowed to get through the curtains, the same wall which you know that in the daylight has the colour of cream, and, finally, the same door, that you keep closed when you sleep. Look at the ceiling. Weird. Usually, you don’t sleep on your back, but this time you woke up with your eyes glued to it. What time can it be? Certainly, it’s late in the night. 

Then, you see it. You can’t move your arm, not even your fingers. You’re trying to switch to your side, but you’re unsuccessful. You remain in your spot. Now, the mattress seems stiff and uncomfortable to you. The blanket is one hundred times heavier and you can’t push it away. You move you neck because it’s the only part of the body that you still have control over, and you look to your left to the desk.   

The chair is occupied by something or someone black, a massive block.  You’re lying down, you don’t feel the weight of the blanket anymore and you wish you could pull it over your entire body. You’re asking yourself if it’s an earthquake going on, but you shortly realize that your heartbeats are shaking your whole body. Though, if it were to be an earthquake and you’d be unable to move in your bed… Your eyes are fixed over the black thing on your chair. It could be a strange shadow, you tell yourself.  But this thought is quickly disapproved by the movement that is produced.  It stands up from the chair, it rises so much that you’d think it will pass through the ceiling. It comes closer and you’re starting to see. 

Their hands and feet are covered by row skin, leaving at sight deep wounds, free of blood. You’re trying to figure it out what can this entity be, completely naked, with no sex to be seen. Its dark hair hangs over the long and slender members. The small, rabid and dark eyes, in a milky sea, are the only features on its face. 

You’re trying to scream, but your jaw is tense, you feel tears in the corner of your eyes, streaming down to your neck and then to your shoulders. You don’t know if the tears are provoked by fear or because of the effort of opening up your jaw. But you succeed and you scream, but the words won’t come out. You hear the roar of your inner voice, but that’s about it. You sound so pathetic. The creature sits on your bed, on your feet, then on your chest, splitting his giant legs, lying on top of you. Your chest rises so fast, your heart is everywhere in your body, only not where it belongs. You feel it beating in your pelvis, trying to hide somewhere. For a second, you’re convinced that you’ll have a heart attack and die. It looks at you with the same eyes, and although it doesn’t have a mouth, you could swear it smirks at you, when one of its hands catches you by the throat, pushing down on you with its claws, probably crushing Adam’s apple. With your mouth half open, your eyes in tears, and with your body that refuses to make any move no matter how hard you scream to do something, you’re bound to look at the creature fixing you with its eyes, closely, tamping down two fingers into your mouth. At first, you feel them abrasive on your tongue, accompanied by a vague taste of something burnt, almost like burnt flesh. Then you don’t feel the fingers anymore because they’re down your esophagus and continue to go down even further. If you could, you’d vomit. 

The image becomes blurry, the chokehold is doing its magic, you’re out of breath and you cheeks are burning. You close your eyes, and you’d lie if you wouldn’t admit that you thought that your life has consumed without even making something special out of it. The creature chose the most uninteresting victim. 

But then, you feel as all the weight in the world goes away and you stand up immediately, almost jumping out of bed. The steps you make to your mirror are the hardest steps you’ve ever made in your entire life, like a rebirthing. The room lights up after you turn on the light. You stand in from of your mirror, watching your back every once and in a while, still thinking that it’s not over yet. You’re still breathing hard, so you’re checking your neck for scars. 

Nothing. The room remains dead silent, as it was while the whole episode was happening. You sit on your bed, as sweaty as you are and you stay awake for the next days.

romanian version:

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