Fear

My heart stopped. I swear it just stopped and for a moment I was dead. Not the death where your life flashes in front of you, not the death where you’re slowly wafting towards the light; just one where everything just stops. Silence. Eyes blinking in desperate hope that it will just go away. Fingers curled at my side digging into my own flesh. Body frozen. Legs tense. My eyes locked on the small mound of hair in front of my eyes. Reality struck that I was not alone in my single-bedroom. I’d awaken to a horrible sub-reality. It was small, neat tussle of hair hanging down its back. Pain seared through my arm where my fingers were clawing in. I wasn’t dreaming. It was real. It. I reminded myself to breathe. Terrified that the small unknown occupant of my bed would turn around and I would see its face. Does it even have a face?

Powerless, unable to move, panic rushing through every crevice of my existence. “It” moved slightly again. The hair that hung from the small fist-sized head was definitely human. But it couldn’t possibly be. My neck tensed, arms locked, head frozen. I tried to pull back. Again “it” stirred. I’d been asleep long enough to warm my bed. I wish I hadn’t been awaken from my slumber. Trying to close my eyes, but it was as if they belonged to another entity. I was forced to stare at the foreign head of hair a few inches from my face. I try to fight the fear that enveloped me. Blanketed me. Not even the warmth of the comforter offered me solace. I was trapped.

Gently closing my eyes, I summon the strength to take a deep breath. Eyes, please obey. Victory! I open them and to my utter horror it was still there. I try to pull back again. “It” stirs again. I shouldn’t move. I don’t want to anger “it”. I force myself to take a deep breath. Suddenly I smelt it. A faint, familiar scent coming from the small head of hair. It couldn’t be! My heart races. A thousand thoughts run through my head, contemplating my next move. I realized that there could only be one thing to explain how this could all come to be. Why it all happened to me.

…..and this is why I decided it was time to get my hair cut. ‘tis a horrible thing when one can’t recognize their own hair in their bed.