Scared of Me

Anxiety

Aerin's POV

"So you say you suffer from Sleep Paralysis?"

"I wouldn't necessarily say suffer..."

Scribble scribble scribble.

"But didn't you say it used to make you not sleep for days?"

"Yea...used to."

Scribble scribble scribble.

"And what would you say instead of the word 'suffer' in reference to your Sleep Paralysis?"

"I would say I enjoy it."

Scribble scribble scribble.

"And what made Sleep Paralysis suddenly so enjoyable?"

"That's easy. Billie did."

Scribble scribble scri-

"Who?"

*Flashback 7 months prior*

Anxiety.

The devil itself. Partners in crime with its best buddy;

Depression.

Their number one enjoyed hobby, making my life hell. It started with me distancing myself from everyone. Making me be alone and giving them free range to torment me.

Making it easier to get their second task accomplished that much easier; my grades. School now becoming useless.

I stay in my room most days, pacing back and forth trying to get the voices to shut up.

For just a day.
Hour.
Minute.

For just a second...

It got to the point where my only freedom was my sleep. Until the asshole of a thing I call my mental state decided to ruin that too.

It happens almost every night. My eyes open and look around, but they're the only thing that will move. Even breathing is hard. I try to move my fingers, toes, any and everything.

Nothing.

Then I see it.. the evil demonic creature crawling up my sheets from the end of my sheet....it's always dark, I never see it's face. All I know is that I hate it for the simple fact that it took my one thing of enjoyment from me.

It's cold...sharp fingers wrap around my neck, the little breath I am able to take slowly turns to none. I try to scream but nothing escapes. My vision slowly turning to nothing. Some nights I hope this demon will end me. Maybe the voices will finally vanish. A single tear always manages to escape my closed eyes.

Out of sadness? Relief?

Who knows? All I know, is before I can finally say goodbye, the demon is gone. And when it is I finally am able to write the one letter a night it gives me to figure out the name of this creature.

This night is no different. It's officially the twelfth night and the name is complete. I look down at the notebook paper on my lap and the name feels like acid on my tongue and the syllables fall from my lips.

Billie Eilish.