Twisted Tales to Tell in the Night

Agoraphobia

     I had always rather stay home, even when I was quite young. Being dragged out to the store as a child was terrifying, something I really hated.
It made my skin crawl and my throat close. The outside was just too scary. Something about other people. The way they stated at times. All the creeps. Made shivers go down my spine. But..as an adult, I could afford to rarely leave the warmth and comfort of my home.

I was lucky, frankly. I had been able to just order food online, have everything delivered; even managed to nab a remote job. I was thankful for it. Though..I was lonely. I had no friends besides those I gamed with. And I never even used a headset. Only ever spoke through chat. I was pathetic.

Granted, it gave me time to work on more important things. Like my art, my school work...

I let out a sigh as I pulled myself up. Rubbing at my head. Another morning with a headache. I rolled from my bed, stepped to the always satisfyingly warm rug. I never liked being cold, and my apartment was freezing without heat on. So, I let it run throughout the day.

Walking across the room, I gathered things one by one for a nice shower. I hoped it'd make me feel better. Hot water was soothing to me. My doctors advised I stay warm due to my Syncope. Had been diagnosed at around ten, when I could be dragged from my room by my parents. They were more worrisome than I ever was. Health freaks. I was the opposite, but not quite a black sheep. A few others in my family held a similar lifestyle, I just so happened to be the only one with Agoraphobia.

My fears were simple. Things normal people could push away. I was far from any of it. Normal people feared things I didn't and vice versa sort of thing.
I found anyone outside of my interests to be odd. I was uncomfortable. Another reason not to go outside.

I turned the water on. Listening to the pitter patter. Being alone made hearing sensitive. Thankfully, the water wasn't annoying. I slinked from my clothes. They felt gritty...I hadn't showered in days.

I felt disgusting. And I probably was.

I entered the stream and let the days wash away. Savoring what I could. I took longer showers..No point in rushing. I needed the break.
My hands ran and caressed over my body, scrubbing off whatever stuck tight. It was all relieving.
I felt sore still. Groaning as I bent over to wash my feet and legs. I always seemed to be in pain. Not always severe.. Just a lingering sense.

Whenever I told people, they pitied me. Thinking of me as frail or weak. I hated that. Another reason not to leave.
Slowly, I peeled myself from my two hour long shower. The bathroom giving out small noises as I went through the process of shutting things off and drying. Brushing my teeth and whatever else I had the energy for. I felt a chill from the air on water dripped skin. I quickly wrapped up. Always so damn cold..
It followed me like a plague. I cranked the heat higher upon passing the thermostat as I walked back down the dim lit hall to my bedroom. Relief..again.
Even showering felt like too much. And I honestly wanted nothing more than to sleep. It was a weekend..So no work. Or school. Or any other bullshit to worry about. I could say fuck all. And I did... regrettably.

After dressing myself in old, stained pajamas. I flopped back into bed. My eyes shut quickly. I curled beneath my nest of blankets. A nap couldn't hurt.

Hours passed. And then more. I slept until early morning. I despised the time when I looked to my clock. I couldn't believe myself. My stomach hissed and growled at my wake. I hadn't eaten in well over twelve hours. Again, I pushed up. Slugging from my spot, down the hall, into my kitchen.

My shaky hands took hold of a microwave meal from the freezer. I slammed that shut with a flinch. Too fucking cold. I hated that fucking cold. It made me feel sick. Nauseous, even.
I made my meal within minutes, only to plop on my nearby couch and wallow as I watched cartoons. It was dark out. Not a soul in sight through my window. Not even a breeze. I leaned into the comfortable plush of cushions. Drowning myself in what I deemed relaxation.
I zoned out. Dissociating on the screen in front of me. I didn't know when time went by. I just stared. Blank faced. Having set the empty plastic tray aside. It felt like only a few minutes. But I soon realized it was nearly six a.m.

Nearing the beginning of summer...
The sun wasn't up. Not even a peek. Normally, the sky would be a medium shade of blue by now.

But it was dark. A chill ran through me. Why was it still pitch black? I double checked the time. Five forty eight. Twelve minutes to six and the sky was still sprinkled in faint shimmers.

Normally, that would be a dream come true for me. But I felt a pit form within my gut. My breath hitched as I tried to process. Suddenly, my feet carried me to the bathroom. I slammed to my knees over the toilet. I puked...violently. It seemed like it wouldn't end. I was trembling. I coughed and gagged. Feeling dazed between bouts. I could feel a coppery taste form in my mouth. Something heated coating my mouth and throat. I coughed again..This time with blood. My eyes widened. I felt sick again. And again...and again. It didn't seem to end. I had emptied my stomach ten times over.

Red toned bile filled the toilet bowl. My breath labored, but I wasn't cold. I felt overheated. I was dizzy, my vision clouded.

That's when I felt it. Blood trickled from above my head. Drips hitting my hair and skin. Upon looking up. I could see a crack in the ceiling. The crack looked like a smile. Something from a nightmare. I stood abruptly. My hands hit my head. My pounding headache grew worse and worse. I could feel heat cover me. I slammed into the wall behind me. Or..so I thought.

My back hit floor instead. The wall had split apart, my body falling right through. I stared up at what ever came above me. Dazed. I couldn't breathe. My throat was shutting in.

As I stared. The floor seemed to wave and bob. Like piles of insects squirming.
And then. A crack. My head split open.
I screamed. I could feel fractures of my skull. My body too heavy to move. All I could do was scream and cry.
Helpless. Laying on the waving floor. I could feel something in my head. Running over the back of my eyes, over my brain..
Steps on my forehead alerted me of a creature. It sounded like the walls laughed. Screeched..

The creature came into my blurred vision. It squirmed. An inky black mass of slime and legs. Covered in my blood.
All I could think about was how I was alive and that headache...It had lasted months.
I remembered when it started. A few days after I moved in. Doctors had said it was stress. When I forced myself to go out due to the worsening condition.
My heart rate dropped. Nearly to nothing. I don't know how I managed to stay alive. But I was conscious enough to watch my home turn into those creatures. Like the one that crawled from my body. They were warm..Warm like my floor. Like my shower.

I had given these things the perfect conditions to thrive. And they had taken advantage of me. The sky was still dark. I had no hope.

I forced myself to crawl. Holding my split head with one hand. As I dragged my aching body across my still waving floors. The masses more visible within the construction of my home.

As I pulled to the street. And stared. I could see flashing lights; and the sky a light blue. I could feel myself dying. And soon, I couldn't keep my eyes open. For once, I was afraid to sleep.
I was afraid of my home.
The place I thought was safe became something of my nightmares.

It's now Wednesday. I lay in a hospital bed, miraculously alive. And healing. I can't explain the horrors I saw. But I warned everyone. When they went into my home, nothing like what I had seen laid there. The only thing said...Was that the rooms smelled strongly of copper and gas.
Everyone chalked it up to gas poisoning because of that.
They think I'm crazy. I'm not. I'm not crazy. I know what I saw. And I'm never going back to that hell hole.

I don't want to go home.