it was a night like any other—
or so I told myself.
same ache.
same pressure—deep,
behind the ribs.
same weight folding inward.
rock bottom again—
but deeper this time.
i was tired—
not the kind sleep fixes.
i was thin.
split down the middle.
edges coming loose.
i cried—
quiet first—
then it broke out of me.
that itch behind the eyes.
sleep.
finally.
let it take me.
let it keep me.
almost gone—
then—
something shifted.
not a sound—
more like pressure changing.
the air went colder—sudden, precise.
my eyes were closing—
still—
I saw it.
a shape—
no.
a gap.
like something was missing from the room
and moving anyway.
i sat up too fast—
vision snapping corner to corner—
you’re anxious.
go back to sleep.
liar.
i know what this is.
and worse—
i know it knows me.
i lay face down,
hands pressed into my stomach
like I could keep myself from coming apart.
my lids fell—
slow. heavy.
like being pulled under.
then—
i was there.
asleep—
watching myself sleep.
why?
a sound tore out of me—
half-voice, half-air—
it’s here.
it stood in the corner.
no face.
nothing that held still long enough to name.
but it watched.
and it moved closer.
like it always does.
i tried to scream—
my throat locked.
to pray—
nothing came.
what’s the point?
it kept coming.
steady. certain.
like it already knew
I wouldn’t fight it right.
like it came to remind me.
i’m not panicking, I told myself.
not this time.
i prayed without words.
and somehow—
i moved.
i don’t know how—
but i did.
i could see myself—
fighting—
dragging my legs toward the edge.
just touch the floor.
that’s all.
it was close now.
close enough to feel.
i swear—
it bent—
like it understood.
my heart slammed against my ribs—
not again. please.
my legs stretched—
aching for something solid—
then—
the floor.
everything snapped.
i surged up—
breath ripping out of me—
cold room.
burning skin.
tears already there.
my knees hit the ground.
i prayed—
i don’t know why.
i don’t know to who.
but the room was empty.
and this time—
it left.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
142,536 Literary Works • 678,385 Reviews
