NightShine

Awake But Dreaming...

I awakened in a shallow pool of blood and sweat trickling in a silent hesitation. Silence crept in through the dark. Tendering its presence upon my earlobes. Softly caressing the ticking of the clock. Its hand striking with an outright absurdity. As if saying what the nights previous events had spoken to me.

Mocking me upon its chiming.

The floor was ice cold as I sat there in an incoherent stupor.

Moving my toes slowly.

Testing my muscles that had been in slumber. Trying to shake off the extreme tiredness of my body.

I opened my eyes and glanced around the room.

Everything was as it should be. The shutters creaked at the windows as a harsh rain paved them with there wetness.

They banged obsessively.

The wind drawing power from that place I had seemed to become. That I taunted with limitless power. But now sat there as an ordinary man. My vision now normal as a humans vision should be. I could no longer see the blood flow within the creatures that had been around me. I could no longer manipulate time in its endless endurance. Twisting and regaining its composure at each second that ticked by. I was a man once again. In that condition of human frailty. Sickness, strife, arrogance they all now proceeded to impale me. To lock in there nails to scrape my soul. My benign counterpart now silent. Withdrawn and weary. I gazed at my chest. Muscles tensed but aching.

The necklace was gone.

Where the bright beam had struck the night like a lantern. Its colors absent now in the darkness around me. The silver fortitude of its creation that had plunged its nails into my chest. That had fed off my blood like a leech to its new born dinner. It was now missing and I was alone in the dark of my bedroom.

I put some trousers on, composed myself and stood upright. Slowly tensing my muscles as i stretched to maintain my balance. The soft fabric embracing my nakedness. Delivering me from the stifling  cold that seemed to still the air within the room. Opening the door i slowly glanced down the dimly lit hallway.

There was no sound to entrance me..

No unsettling angel to mirror my movements. Taking my flesh as its doormat. Using the darkness as a coat amidst the feverish changing.

Again I was human.

Pathetically nailed to my identity of a man. Despondent with memories and days in a rhythmic sucession. With shoes in hand I trudged down the narrow hallway. Intruding upon the shadows that no longer knew me in my now weakened form. Stretching outward my hand to guide me. Pitch blackness entered the area I was about to stumble. My footing dislodged beneath me as I tripped over something in the darkness. It seemed darker then dark. If that was even possible. Hesitating I questioned the idea in my mind. Running frantically through my thoughts. Trying to discern the events that had taken place before me.

Nothingness abounded.

My memories scraped and seemingly bleeding from within.

Pieces formed as shards of my heartbeat drew an avenue of sight less conclusions.

If I could only remember it all but it was slowly fading from my grasp..

My intention to will it into my own existence. To bow to the memory. My ears listened to a quiet darkness. As I lay bleeding from the abrupt falling. Flesh scraped and flowing red. Pain seeped in through my aching. As I laid there cascaded on the wooden darkness. A purging of this moment I tried to imply to myself. To gird myself upwards from my state of being defeated.

I searched for the object I tripped over. Recoiling backwards as sweeping the walk way with my fingers.

Nothing was there. To the left and to the right I gazed
upon the area that subdued me.

But again ....there was nothing.

Just an all consuming darkness. An unstable tangent of my own thoughts keeping me company in the blackness. I sat there and meditated on the idea.

I was alone.

Perhaps I was dreaming.

Sleepwalking on a tightrope of ill manored decisions made in the light. Perhaps my own failures had tripped me in there wake. Protruding through to my subconscious. Now taking shape as an unseen opponent in the shadows. Clobbering me intellectually and physically challenging my stance. Preventing me from journeying down stairs.

For downstairs may be my salvation.

A way out of this nightmare. This trickery thieving my mind of its reasoning. If I could just make it down stairs. Oblivion would have its final dish without me. The darkness could render useless my appetite for questioning. Everything would erect itself properly in my aching forehead, and my despondent memory would surely return.

If i could only make it down stairs.