Excerpts to Books I'll Never Write

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I close my eyes and I see him. Awake, dreaming, it's all the same. He's always there. Lurking, stalking. In the dark behind my lids, he haunts me, and in the dark in my dreams? He owns me. Or does it matter?

Every night... Every night I see him, hear him, feel him. It's more than a nightmare, it's real. He's real. I wake up with the smell of his breath fresh in my nose and the cool touch of his blade still lingering on my skin. I wake with the bruises and cuts as proof of the reality of it all. 

I jump at the slightest of sounds, I flinch at sudden movements and I want to cry when someone raises their voice in my vicinity. I drown in fear, panic, and dread. My paranoia is through the roof. Friends and family thought I was in an abusive relationship, I suppose they're not too far off. 

I can't get him off my mind, he's taken over my life. He owns me. sometimes I'd avoid sleeping just to get a break because he seems to never tire. I'd walk into work the next day looking like living dead. I'd started picking up extra night shifts to help keep me going. But once I'd started passing out in public and mid-conversation, I wasn't allowed to anymore. My manager even pulled me aside to ask if everything was alright. I told her I am, but we both know the truth. Finally, my friends set up an intervention and convinced me to go see a doctor.

The doctor came to the conclusion of night terrors but night terrors don't leave physical marks. I was prescribed some experimental medication that's supposed to basically prevent dreams from even occurring. I tried it, thinking it might actually help. But as time went on and the visitor persisted it was clear the pills weren't working.

More often than not, I was chained up or tied down so moving wasn't an option. The rare times I was allowed to move, it was just to provide a sick game of cat and mouse. The respective roles clear. After months of suffering the same treatment, I'd become manic. I got the crazy idea to fight back. Not really thinking it through I rushed into my nightly routine and hurried to bed. I was going to show this bitch he picked the wrong toy.