'Dying To Get Out"

It's a small dirt clearing nowhere in particular, in the dense thicket of an endless dark. I'm ready now to meet this fate fresh to wound or either I'm already a dead carcass lying mangled in the cold nothingness. A monstrous wall of black laments to me with every thought of advance. In every break of a light-spacing wind, a wave of orchestra and symphony, as the last of what little sanity I have left plays out in my head like the melodic shades of a sunset, dimming, note by note; both haunting and enchanted. I can feel the lifeless motion of movement in the things all around me but it's impossible to see anything.

I can hear the sound of brooks and streams rushing all about me as fierce and wild as the force of night. There's creeps and crawlers burrowing right beneath me, seeking more than life and death. Quick buzzes, here and there, antagonize me as I swat them away in anger and fear. Above me, I can just make out the most alluring of stares, it reminds me of the dreaded shrieks of a restless barn owl resting on its perch, and then just when you thought you've fully admired all its charm, beauty, and grace it takes flight to better heights up into the forest canopy. An infinite luxury and view it must be from there, watching; seemingly all sorted and saved in this oblivion. And as if to savor my reflection in all its needs, fear, and peace was of any real solace or importance to its restless existence.

Hoovering, like a ghost, I lightly tread the protruding brush, probably purged by wolves and even more ferocious and vicious beast; with both fang and claw that rip and tear their prey to pieces. If only the root of this towering darkness were weaker, the moon and stars might shine and show bright through the never ending void; as for better comfort than the callousness of all the earth, stick, and stone recklessly littered about me. Inch by inch, I feel, I walk, I climb, and crawl; desperate to find some sense of direction and reality in this treacherous place.

Where am I? How did I end up here? Why am I here? All but a few reasonable questions tethered like weight and chain to my every emotion. In a very brief survey of my inner monologue, I have no real answers. They're stuck on the tip of my tongue like flying pest and other insects to a poisonous frogs whims in instinctual pleasures. But I can't curse the night the way it has cursed me, and cast me so rapidly and bold. Perhaps, I could cry or call out for help, but I can't. Even now, danger lurking may have already caught my scent of fear, stalking me, drawing ever nearer, and closer, waiting for the opportune moment to exact revenge on me for the sins of those things I pray to keep.

I find my way blind for what seems like a lifetime until miraculously I feel an entrance into an opening that's grandiose and hollow. In a moments thought, I almost retreat back out into the open from what seemed to be a trap, the make of a prison, or something worse. I press on and on until the roar of night is faint in a distance and I can no longer feel or taste the bitterness of the open air. Carefully, I carry my wet and tired feet over the damply cold, jagged edges, grooves, and curves of the barren ground, tracing the frozen stone walls with a heavy hand until it becomes almost impossible for me to move. When I cant go on any further, I ball up like a new born baby exhausted in its crib in the lonely dark. Again, I contemplate whether I'm safe here or have I made a grave mistake? One way in, one way out. No! One way in, no way out!

I'm desperately tired, hungry, and dehydrated once i resign to a place between life and death, as if heaven or hell were neither better fates. If only I could salivate enough spit in my mouth to relieve the extreme blistering of my lips and to loosen my tongue, I might say something out loud just to know my own voice again; trapped deep in the empty gloom. I fade in and out of existence, from dream and back to dream and back again, until finally, mental exhaustion and physical exertion collapse upon me like the cave walls. It was a best case scenario considering what little energy I had left to spare.

It isn't more than a minutes time it seems when I'm startled out of my trance like sleep by a low and deep grumble. It's still much too dark to see even my hands right in front of me. It keeps growing louder and louder! It's getting closer and closer, as I try to cower back even further into the dark! If you've ever felt the thrill of fright coming on like an onslaught of sharp and piercing pains in every limb and extremity in your body simultaneously, you know very well the state of inevitable shock and terror I was in. What do I do? I'm dead! I'm dead! Something's coming! Its coming, I panic! There's no where to run, you can barely move! There's no where to hide. No escape. One way in, no way out. Somebody help! Oh, please God, help me! No! No! No!

I woke up cold and stiff, gasping for the breath and life that at that very moment I was certain had just been drained out of me by some shapeless creature. Now that I was wide awake, I immediately realize where I am. I'm home in my apartment room sitting on the edge of the bed staring colorless into the depths of space. I look to either side of me and there's nothing but pillows and covers thrown about like some deviant childhood imagination. I look to the window as the street lights and passing of cars flash into the room making silhouettes out of every piece of furniture and fixture. I carefully access both their shapes and sizes to every rule of thumb humanly possible.

On the night stand next to me there's an alarm clock and a wrist watch. I pick them both up and compare their times. One is always about a minute slower than the other, a tricky device of time itself I haven't quite figured out yet, despite many ill attempts to synchronize them perfectly to an eastern pacific, digital time standard. The irony of those clocks resembled my current state of mind. In comparison, the horror I had just imagined, it was like fully knowing all depths of perception without any real consciousness or feasible insight, so you just let go of everything entirely.

Still dizzy, and confused, I cautiously get out of bed. Panning here and there to every little sound and shadow that erupts in the rooms subtle stillness and luminescence. Discerning the immediacy and realness of my illusions proves to be a tedious task, but I take heed in encompassing north, south, east, and west as if I was trying to find my way back from some interstellar adventure. I walk to the bathroom where I turn on the light, look into the vanity and stare deep into my reflection. I run the faucet and douse my face with cold water and drink a couple handfuls to quench my thirst.

Back in my bedroom it all comes back to me and is real again, as I relive the horror I had just experienced minutes before. I remember being hopelessly lost and almost killed by the deep nothing of something, somewhere in the dark. None of it was real. I get back into bed and prostrate in sheer relief as I realize the terror that had just overcome me was only a dream. I take one last glance at the shadows of light playing in the window. The ceiling above has a solid and golden glow. The bed is soft and warm. I feel nothing moving in again, and quickly, only this time it's more pleasant and comforting. Shifting this way and that, "It was only a dream.", I tell myself. "It was all nothing."

The End