Link Dane

THIRTY-SEVEN

THIRTY-SEVEN

I knew it before I woke up that something wasn't right. I knew whilst I was still that far deep in dream land and still unwilling to leave it. My dream was like any other blissful dream, just equally peaceful and serene. But the dark vibe that misted itself around, almost like a blanket covering a whole scene and releasing the horror chills, was present and it was almost suffocating to a point where I just had to wake up.

It's just a bizarre dream... I assured my half asleep mind. I kept my eyes firmly closed, hoping that this dream would pass and in place would come another. I was also hoping to get some dreamless sleep before I actually had to wake up and start my day.

I shifted to my left side, lifted the blankets and put it over my head to get that extra darkness my room couldn't give. I was already in a dream, way too deep to even comprehend anything logical when I felt it.

At first I thought it was another extract from another bizarre dream. But, part of my mind still clung onto logic and reality and it made me ponder on my own thought.

Nothing shouldn't feel this heavy on you.

It didn't make sense. It was like a pile of files was placed all over my legs and my hips, creating this heaviness as though some was actually on me. That all seemed impossible so I decided to just try to go back to sleep. Yet, this nagging feeling of just wanting to check kept me awake. For something that heavy to be on you, it granted at least a small lift of the head and a small open of the eyes.

Reluctantly, I moved the covers from over my head to just below my nose. I didn't actually see anything up until I moved my leg just the smallest amount and heard it. The sound of paper being ruffled before it all dropped to the floor with a significant thud. That's when I saw it.

My throat instantly filled up whilst simultaneously preventing air from reaching my lungs. Slowly, ever so careful, I perched up on my elbows and turned my body so I lay on my back and stared at what seemed like a thousand or more Polaroid's all over me.

I reached for one from the pile nearest to me with trembling fingers. I lifted one up and stared at it, completely swiped from any reaction. Initially, it looked like someone sleeping heavily, a complete stranger even. Until I recognised the setting of the room. The way the bedside tables were mismatched but holding up the same lamps, the way the picture from on top of the bed was slightly off center and the way the pillows were placed neatly on a pile next to floor of the bed.

I looked down and blindly picked up another one from the same pile. This one, from a different location but with the same image. I picked another one up, and saw the same picture but from a different spot, and another and another.

I threw that whole pile off me and frantically reached for another nearest to my hip. This one was of a much closer shot. Sleeping peacefully on the bed, with the covers just thrown across the midsection of the body and the hair all of the pillow case and some strands covering the face.

I jumped off the bed and threw the Polaroid across the room. Standing near the foot of the bed, I could see how much there was and seeing all those Polaroids, knowing that everything had come to this point... I was fighting myself from passing out. My legs were holding onto a thin rope as they quivered uncontrollably and my arms practically gave up on me as they hung from my shoulders numb.

I could hear my own erratic heart pumping in my throat as my mouth silently formed words. "Shit."

I dragged my weak legs closer to the bed and picked up a few more Polaroids in my hands. I stared, at myself, as I slept peacefully.