Stop It
"The Horror of My Own Subconscious"
As I lay in bed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. It started with small things - a creak in the floor, a rustle in the walls, a faint whisper in my ear. At first, I dismissed it as mere paranoia, but as the days went by, the occurrences grew more frequent and more intense.
One night, I woke up to find a figure standing in my bedroom doorway. Its presence was imposing, its face twisted in a grotesque grin. I tried to scream, but my voice was frozen in my throat. The figure began to move closer, its eyes fixed on me with an unblinking stare.
I tried to move, but my body was paralyzed. The figure loomed over me, its hot breath on my face. And then, it spoke. Its voice was low and menacing, and it seemed to come from all around me.
"Stop it," it growled. "Stop pretending you don't see me."
I was taken aback. What did it mean? What was I pretending not to see?
The figure began to laugh, a cold, mirthless sound. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," it said. "You've been ignoring me for weeks. You've been pretending I don't exist."
I was confused and terrified. Who was this creature? What did it want from me?
The figure leaned in closer, its face inches from mine. "You need to stop ignoring me," it hissed. "You need to acknowledge my presence."
And with that, it vanished. The room was silent once again, but I knew I wasn't alone. The figure was still there, watching me, waiting for me to acknowledge its existence.
I tried to shake off the feeling of dread, but it lingered. I knew I had to confront the figure, but I didn't know how.
Days passed, and the occurrences grew more frequent. The figure would appear in my bedroom, in the shower, even in my dreams. It was always there, watching me, waiting for me to acknowledge its presence.
And then, one night, I had enough. I stood up to the figure, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Okay," I said, my voice shaking. "I see you. I acknowledge your presence."
The figure grinned, its eyes gleaming with malevolence. "Good," it said. "Now, you'll never be able to ignore me again."
And with that, it vanished. The room was silent once again, but I knew I was forever changed. I had confronted the figure, and it had won.
I was trapped in a living nightmare, and I didn't know how to escape.
And then, one day, I realized that the figure was me. It was my own subconscious, manifesting itself in a twisted, grotesque form. I was the one who had been ignoring my own fears and doubts, and now they had come back to haunt me.
I was consumed by my own darkness, and I didn't know how to escape. The figure was always there, watching me, waiting for me to confront my deepest fears.
And then, one day, it spoke again. "You'll never be able to ignore me again," it said. "You'll never be able to escape."
And with that, everything went black.
I was trapped in a never-ending cycle of terror, unable to escape the figure's grasp. I was forever doomed to face my own fears and doubts, and I knew I would never be able to stop it.
The figure's presence was suffocating, crushing me beneath its weight. I was trapped in a prison of my own mind, with no escape in sight.
And then, the figure spoke again. "You'll never be free," it said. "You'll never be able to stop me."
About the Creator
Isra Saleem
Versatile writer skilled in both tale & stories. Captivate readers with engaging content & immersive narratives. Passionate about informing, inspiring, & entertaining through words.
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