I had just flown from the west coast of America all the way to Virginia and I was jet lagging real bad. It had been the first real long flight that I had ever been on and I didn't fell good all day. I was dizzy, tired, and nearly threw up after dinner. My friend paul and I agreed that a good night's sleep would fix all my ailments so I retired early. I was restless, tossing and turning until well after midnight. I was sleeping in the top bunk, Paul beneath me, he sleep walks and is prone to falling off beds. Now I don't often remember my dreams, but the one I had that night I recall as clearly as if it had really happened. In it I was being chased by Paul. At first I thought we were playing some sort of game or racing each other, but when I looked at his face again I saw that he was furious more mad than I had ever seen him. He had a had a terrible gash along the left side of his face and I, somehow, instantly knew that his injury had been my fault. Behind his cut was a lighter shade than that of his dark skin. I began running faster and eventually came into an enormous warehouse. When I looked behind me Paul was gone. I took a breather and started looking for something to hide behind. From that look in my friend's eyes I knew he was out to kill me. I found a rusted pipe on the floor and I wiggled into a corner between the wall and a large metal canister. I don't know how long I was there but I swear I could feel the bitterly cold metal of the can on my right side and the warmer, black painted wall on my left. I could feel also the rusted pipe I held in both my hands in a firm grasp. I began to wonder weather or not I was dreaming. I could definitely feel my surroundings, and I could recall my entire day before paul began chasing me with ease. I began to drip sweat and started shaking. I heard foot steps coming from behind me and slowly making their way around the can and just out of view. It was as If Paul had some sort of sixth sense and knew exactly where I was. I tried to call out and reason with my friend but my voice was so dry all that came out was a horse whisper. A muted last pleed for my life. Paul is at least half a foot taller than me and I'm positive he could take me down without a second thought. The footsteps stopped and I continued trying to speak, but my small whisper was getting even quieter. I tried to move out of my now clearly not defensible corner, but my knees wouldn't move because of the fear that Paul seemed to radiate off of himself. An amount of time passed nearly unnoticed by me before anything happened. When Paul finally jumped out in front of me, I slammed the pipe down on his head without a second thought. He reeled back, clutching his skull and howling like an animal. At that moment, when I heard that gutteral sound, I knew that this thing was not my friend. It was something unearthly animal. It's scream of pain slowly phased into a cry of pure anger.As it lifted it's head I saw that its nails were at least a foot long, and as sharp as steel. It began to claw Paul's face, that was now clearly masking something beneath it, as it continued to ever so slowly continue to rise its head up to meet my horrified gaze. First, it gashed out its own eyes as it claws slowly raked down its face. Then, as the outer shell of its body, that was Paul, peeled away, I began to glimpse the monster beneath. It had skin that was incredibly white, and yet it seemed to suck in darkness instead of giving off light as it should have. The beast's mouth seemed to of been wielded closed, yet in his anger he had ripped it open. His mouth began filling with blood as it seaped from both his lips and the inside of his mouth. His teeth were more numerous and jagged than that of a shark. He had bitten his lip because of my attack, and he now snarled at me for the injuries I had caused to his alread terrible face. When his eyes were finally raised level to my own, he lunged. With incredible speed his uncountable teeth were dug deep into the flesh of my shoulder. I awoke with a gasp and sat up like a bolt. I immediately grasped for my shoulder and, although there was no blood, I could feal the injury as if it had really happened. I thought of calling out for Paul but hesitated because of what I might find in the bed below me. I knew it was irrational but the fear I had from that dream drove me to remain quite. I sat in bed, hardly moving, and breathing heavily. Hours passed and finally curiosity won me over. As I slowly looked over the edge of my bed my heart was racing faster than I'd ever of thought possible. I could fell my pulse shaking my body every fraction of a second. My eyes finally peered over the edge of my bed to find a vacant mattress with pillows and blankets folded neatly atop it. I laid back down and tried to reassure myself that he had just gotten up to take a piss. But why would he fold his blankets in the middle of the night? Or fold them at all. Paul is NOT an organized person, and I doubt he'd even know How to make a bed look that nice. Another hour passed before I heard the bedroom door open. This time I gulped, tried to clear my throat with no prevail, and called out to Paul. No response. He began walking towards his bottom bunk and climbed in. I expected to hear him shuffle his blankets in order to get in to bed, I assumed he was sleep walking which was why he hadn't acknowledged my call. No noise of rustling sheets came. I thought of just trying to get a few hours of sleep, but I knew I couldn't. I began to sit up to pear over the edge of the bunk, my heart beating just as hard and rapidly. The monster that had taken my friend's skin stood up and was an inch from my face. I don't know how I hadn't noticed but the pipe I had found in my dream was in my hand. I slammed the newly acquired weapon as hard as I could towards the side of his head. It didn't fall for the same move twice. It caught the rusted pipe with dizzying speed. It grinned its horyfying mouth and lunged at me yet again. This time I awoke to the bright morning sun. I was drenched in sweat and my whole body was sore as if it all had actually happened. My neck was sore and my hands numb from being clenched all night long. I talked to Paul when he awoke and we both agreed I had a night terror as a result of the tyring plane ride home. And yet, I've never been to shake the feeling that I will one day come across that same pale beast, perhaps this time hiding beneath the skin of another one of my loved ones. And that yet again, I'll wake up.
