3.45 am Wednesday 16/05/07

My mind had been slowed for nearly six days due to lack of sleep. The doctor called it flu induced insomnia and refused any sort of sleeping aid due to the apparent fact that it will make matters worse. Personally I could not care less. The two hours of broken sleep I had benefited from during my shivering, headache filled week did not, surprisingly, supply me with the rest necessary to break out of my sickness. Another, perhaps less obvious, side effect to my semi wake state of mind, is the abundance of time I had newly achieved. While you were all sleeping, I lay in my bed, listening to music and dwelling over past events in my life.

In my ever increasing philosophical state I envisioned my examination as like sitting on a beach. There, in the quiet hours after midnight the night rolls and breaks and tosses up my losses and gains like bits of wreckage. All that’s left of one ship or another. I ceaselessly examine the bits of wreckage in the surf as though we can put the past together again. At the time revelations enter my mind which seem to be the heart felt way to follow through, however when the light of midday begins to hurt my eyes, I realise that I was merely torturing myself. Foolishly enough I repeat the process and in possessing a human mind I fear I am doomed to repeat for ever more in those precious hours of the morning.

As I lay lost on my ever expanding beach, I walked along the remains of the day. Watching Heroes, avoiding study, been harassed by my seminar supervisor for having to extend my presentation. The day seemed to have been a waste, aside from the promised prospect of a face off I have been waiting for, for months. While examining these details in my mind, the room in which I lay seemed to have decreased in temperature. I thought it safe to assume that the constant cold flushes I had been assaulted by, attributed to this and without a second though pulled my blanket up to my chin. The thought of a presentation in front of thirty people I barely knew began to preoccupy my thoughts as the night wore on. After deciding to employ the “view the crowd naked” routine was probably a bad idea, I rolled over for the ceremonial checking of my bed side clock. Time seemed to drag while lying on my beach. In this case though, it seemed much worse. it seems that only five minutes had passed since the last time I checked my clock, which surely should have been hours ago. I began to shiver again as I angrily rolled back over.

Then, suddenly, breathing. Breathing to echo my own. As I began to get my body back under control a noise broke the sacred silence of 3:45 in the morning. A yell, so deep and so loud erupted in my room. The sudden frightening voice screamed “LEGION” as the doors of my closet at the end of my bed flung open. The fright which I received from this bellowing voice and movement pumped an instant dose of adrenaline through my veins. I released myself extremely vulnerable and in two quick motions I ripped off my sheets and was then standing by my bed. A figure too dark to recognise moved with impossible speed from the blackness of the closet towards me. In the micro-second I had to react I began to think it strange that I could not make out who this is despite my room been very bright at night due to a street lamp outside my window. I was only able to proceed to “despite my room” in my thought track before the figure was upon me.

It was much larger than myself and even up close too dark to recognise. With the gained momentum it had accumulated by its dash from hiding, the figure jumped at me, hitting full force with its hands around my neck. The power it possessed was incredible. If the walls of my room had not been paper thin, I sure would have had my back and neck broken on impact. Instead I broke through the wall, back first with the figures ever present hands clasped around my neck. Splinters and parts of the wall flew with us as we tumbled to the floor of my flat mate’s room with its bulk on top of me. I lay on the floor of his room with my vision obscured by the pitch black attacker. I sensed movement and objection from the bed which was too high for me to see the top. The figure’s hands tightened relentlessly. It then moved its darkened face to within centimetres of mine and whispered in a growl “for I, am many”.

Unfortunately this short story of the events which occurred at 3:45am on Wednesday morning has the most depressing ending possible to tale. And then I woke up. Welcome to the scariest dream I have had in two years. The simple ability of been able to have a nightmare in an extremely real environment makes me despise my mind even more than the beach it quarantines me to on a nightly basis. The absolute kicker of the story was that it was 3:47 when I awoke in cold sweat. Meaning in the two minutes of sleep I had scored in the past forty eight hours (I managed to achieve a broken two hours, two days previous) I managed to wake myself. True story aside from the devil busting out of my closet and trying to kill me. Go team.

Sweet dream’s y’all
;D

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beach