Night lights and nightmares

July 20, 2013

I lock my screen and set my phone next to me on the couch. Annoyed at the blankets twisted around my legs, I kick them off and lay on my back instead. Kristen’s couches may be comfortable to sit on but sleeping on them is a different story. I can never seem to get comfortable.

When I finally settle into a position that isn’t completely unbearable, I look up for a moment and allow my eyes to adjust to the dark after looking at my bright little phone screen.

This summer, I have put an end to sleeping with a night light. I didn’t always need one. It started my junior year and ever since I just.. but since I’m starting college in a couple months, with roommates and everything, I figured I should get used to sleeping without it.

It hasn’t been easy. Generally I get everything all situated and clear a path from the light switch to my bed before flipping the switch off and darting back to my bed as fast as I can. Then I just close my eyes. I fall asleep pretty quickly most of the time (thank goodness), so it’s been manageable.

But apparently tonight is one of those nights where I won’t fall asleep so quickly. It’s so odd for me; I can literally sleep anywhere and anytime. But there are some nights.. I try to relax myself, let go of tension in my face, my shoulders, my—

The stairs squeak behind me.

I freeze, any trace of relaxation gone.

I hear the click of a door lock, very faintly.

I cannot move. I literally cannot move.

Now the floor boards, a barely audible creak.

It is you I know it, it is you. I came to Utah to get away from you but now you’ve found me and there’s no escaping because I cannot move my body and my hands are just frozen by my sides, why am I always frozen and I see a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye and it is you, you are here to finish the job and I can’t stop hearing creaks now they are everywhere you are everywhere and I can’t stop envisioning hands over my head, clamping down, pinning me and it is you it is you it is you.

I am saying prayers in my head but they are half coherent because my mind is frozen too it is you it is you it is you.

“Jessi?”

I let out a shriek and it doesn’t sound like me it sounds like some wounded animal and now I’m sobbing when did I start sobbing

“Shmoo! It’s me, it’s me!”

Soft arms come around me and I flinch away and I’m gasping for air and whimpering and hugging my knees to my chest and burying my face, my whole body into the arm of the couch and I just can’t stop saying “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” and I can’t stop crying I can’t stop crying

It takes at least ten minutes of Kristen talking me down, helping me to count my breathing, but definitely not touching me, for me to stop crying. It takes another twenty for me to breathe normally. And it is hours before I stop shaking.