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It Found Me
It began. It crawled out from the darkness of a lair. It didn’t know anything but mischief and cruelty. It inhabited the emptiness of the mind. It hid with the clutter of forgotten and decayed things. It didn’t even have a body of its own; it was only capable of feeding with insatiable hunger and of grasping with tenacious fingers. I had found it under my bed, the night that Mystery decided to play its tricks.
I had woken to find myself only five centimeters tall, lying in the center of my crisp, clean pillow. The sheets were a white wasteland, and the bed a cliff face. The walls were washed in blue light from the moon, and the steady breathing of my sister was louder than a storm.
When your sixth sense prickles, you can not ignore it. I was alone… apparently… but… something was different on the air. I slid off of the gigantic expanse of my pillow, and hurried toward the edge of my bed; it seemed much too far away. My senses were chasing me, causing my recently-shrunk skin to itch all over. I looked back when I reached the impossibly tall cliff that was the edge of the mattress; I could not see a thing.
The world spun, and gravity sent me tumbling back. I collided with the curve of my blankets, and I was sliding downward, down to a mottled blue floor covered in shadow, clawing at the smooth cloth with my fright. I rolled uncontrollably to the end of my fall, and a black nothingness collapsed on my body. I felt that I would lay there forever in the hole of my despair. It was so hard and suffocating. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t believe.
And then the cloud lifted suddenly. I gasped on the new air, and, with my freedom, forced my arms and legs to move to my will; survival propelled me onward, a sheer stubbornness that all creatures must possess to become truly living.
I breathed as deep as I dared in the echoing silence. I rose to my knees, my muscles aching, and I cried as I pulled my way up. The pain was nearly unbearable.
And finally, I could stand, my legs shaking and my fingers trembling. Strength began to return to me. I hiccupped on the relief that swelled in my lungs… and I opened my eyes.
The cave before me was dark and thick in the nighttime shades of light. I could see the incredibly tall objects that had seemed so small before, outlined in the blackness.
This fantastic world beckoned to me. So many things that I had hidden under the place I slept, and eventually forgotten. I walked forward into the darkness, passing a dirty sock and a dusty white shoe with buckles. There was my box of crayons that I accidentally melted by the fire, and a scrap of paper I’d scribbled my name on. There was the dollar bill I’d saved from my last job for my father and forgotten to spend. There was a candy wrapper from last Halloween.
I continued on… and the land began to subtly change. Thick dust coated the blue carpet that I walked on, and made my teeth feel awfully gritty. The objects became older and sad looking. A doll with a face drawn by marker, a baby book with chewed corners, a puzzle piece with a missing edge were a few to name.
I heard it first; the breathing of a labored monster, ragged and disgusting; it scraped across the air on its invisible fingers; it was dangerously close; it liked to take its prey from behind.
As I turned to face my attacker… it found me… and I screamed.
And I woke with racing heart and sweaty body… and I hurried to find my mother in her bed, asleep until I worried her with my nightmares.
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 4 comments.
6 articles 0 photos 37 comments
Success is not final and failure is not fatal. The courage to continue is all that matters in the end.
24 articles 0 photos 382 comments
I'd rather be sorry for something that I did than for something I didn't do.
I agree, excellent story, held my attention from begining to end!
By the way, would you please read some of my work, rate, and critisize? Thanks.
8 articles 2 photos 509 comments
Live for today, not for tomorrow
13 articles 0 photos 531 comments
I don't believe in hell but I believe in my parent's couch-- Watsky
This was good, I seriously had no idea it was a dream until the very end. Granted, I thought the 'only five centemeters tall' thing was a little cliche and out-there, but now that I realize this was a dream I guess it was fine. Overall your vocabulary and detail were very good, and I did't see any grammae or spelling mistakes.
There was one sentence I had a question about, though, "There was a dollar bill I'd saved form my last job for my father and forgotten to spend." Wait, you said she had saved it for her father, but at the same time she forgot to spend it? Why would she want to spend it if it was for her father?
Anyway, I liked this story and I think you are a good writer. I hope this goes over well in English class!
Can you comment and rate my story, "Encounter"?