The Grace in the Fall

The Storm and the Silence After the Rain

When I woke up this morning something was odd about my room. It was dark. The room felt cold and chilled. I felt awful, like I was getting through a really bad fever. Everything was so quiet. I couldn't hear any birds outside my window and I couldn't hear the air conditioning pushing into the room like it does every morning.

I figured it must still be night because of how dark it was so I reached for my phone. I extended my hand and I shivered when I couldn't feel anything under my finger tips. I turned and stared at where a dresser should have been. I couldn't really see anything in my room so I reached for the light switch. I couldn't feel it.

I pulled my hand back from the wall and sat up. I tried to wipe the sleep out of my eyes but my arms were exhausted. I stared at the room, trying to make my eyes adjust to the darkness and see what had happened to my bedroom.

I felt the pull of sleep trying to carry me under but I had fear working on my side. I couldn't close my eyes. Something was off and it scared me. I sank deeper into the bed, determined to hide myself from the outside world. It will all be okay in the morning. I'll just go back to sleep. Everything will be okay in the morning.

I turned in my bed and froze. My leg should be hanging off the bed by the position I was in. It wasn't. My heart started beating in my chest, and I could almost seem to hear it's hammering. This is all wrong.

I tried to sit up in the bed, but I couldn't. The sheer hopelessness and terror I was feeling almost sent me into hysterics. I tried to hold it together. There was no way I was back. It couldn't have been.

A cold sinking feeling slowly filled my heart with fear. The thing that put me over the top was the cold air beating on my face. I opened my eyes, dreading what I would see. I stared at the ceiling and screamed. On the ceiling was the lazy white or gray ceiling fan slowly turning around and around. The symbol of my misfortune.

The door opened. I tried to whip my head around as fast as I could to see who it was, but it was slow and lazy. It left me feeling more tired than I had ever felt before.

Tears rolled down my face. I sobbed and I stared at the shadowy figure in the doorway. Just like the first time, I couldn't see her face. She was just a gray silhouette standing in the doorway. She took one step into the doorway and my tears got more intense. I shifted on the bed and tried to move away.

"Stop!" I cried.

I was almost halfway off the bed when she took another step towards me. My heart almost seemed to be hammering out of my chest. I swear you could hear it pounding away. She reached out for me and my moving gave way to a new urgency. I was going to die if she touched me again.

She grabbed my wrist and her hands were warm and soft. How could a monster like this feel so human? My voice was getting hoarse but I continued to yell for someone to help me. I was desperate.

She climbed on the bed and I slumped on the mattress. I was exhausted. Putting up a fight required too much energy. I didn't even feel real. This wasn't me. I was at home, asleep in my bed. I was a thousand miles away from here. She can't hurt me now.

She ran her hands up and down my body and despite her warm hands I shivered. I was so cold. I looked up at the fan and focused on the fan. While it was the symbol of my misfortune, it was also my saving grace. What she was doing couldn't hurt me while I wasn't thinking of her. I was thinking of the gray or white ceiling fan circling around the room.

The door opened again and my eyes shot over. She didn't look.

"Help me!" I shouted with tears in my voice.