The Shift

Have you ever felt the mood of a room shift, even if it’s only in the slightest, most insignificant way? There’s a change in the air, a different vibration that sinks its way into that hollow space of atmosphere, followed by an eerie rhythm that somehow breaks the silence. That shift could happen at any moment, but it seems to favor those darker, more comforting hours when it has the chance to catch you off guard. You could be sitting in your bedroom, relaxing on your bed with a book, or watching your favorite reality show. Or, perhaps you’re next to a campfire that’s surrounded by good company and frivolous stories to occupy the lack of sound around you. A strong feeling of warmth holds you tight, keeping you blissfully ignorant of any change that might come.

Then, in an instant, the shift hits you. Hairs on the back of your neck stand up, you don’t really know why therefore you ignore it. Maybe a few butterflies begin to flutter down your throat, followed by a light chill dripping down your spine. These little, harmless signs could point to anything. These are the signals that tell us something is off, but with that soothing facade still wrapped tightly around your mind, these cues remain unnoticed. Until the butterflies begin to swarm, they pile up inside your belly and begin to feel like a drum, beating against the walls of your stomach. This is like a siren to your other senses, and you begin to feel the shift coming to its full fruition. Your heartbeat goes from a soft thump every few seconds to a heavy thud that chimes in between those softer beats. Something feels off, something is wrong, and you can finally feel it. That heartbeat crescendos to a painful and worrying bump bump bump bump. All of the hairs on your arms stand up tall, pulling at your skin and you feel that tightness on your arms lingers. As you sit on your bed, as you hold your hands out in front of that sizzling campfire, the air around you is moving, it is changing. There is a very strong and palpable feeling that something, something is going to happen but you don’t know what it is. You don’t know how to find out. Every cell in your body is screaming at you, there is danger getting closer, but there isn’t a thing you can do about it. Your blood begins to boil, every part of you feels white-hot, not with anger, but with fear. What do you do when this happens? You might hide under your blanket, you might try to push out these unbearable feelings, desperately trying to escape the cage your emotions have stuck you in. This fear, its weight holds no bounds. It pulls you down and suffocates you. You become a hostage, trapped within the confinement of your own head.

The shift comes quickly and with intense power, like lighting a short fuse attached to a nuclear bomb. This leaves you stuck in an explosion that knocks you out. It consumes you, almost as if it wants to become you. After it dissipates, the effects linger. Your body might still shake, you might still feel that tight, pulling feeling on the skin of your arms. There could even be chills still wracking your spine. The high alert sirens are gone, but you’re afraid of whatever danger made you feel this way. That threat may never have presented itself, and that frightens you even more than if it had.

I have been unfortunate enough to experience this shift on countless occasions throughout my life. I’m not certain of why I’ve seemingly been chosen for this, but I guess at this point I have to accept it. Many conversations with my peers have led me to the conclusion that not everyone has felt this shift, there might even be some people who never will experience it. Those people, I consider being the luckiest of us all. No matter how many times I feel it, each and every time the shift finds its way to me, the onslaught of inescapable fear torments me.

My everyday life hasn’t been directly affected due to this - what I suppose you could consider - haunting. However, it has given me great difficulty with sleeping. My dreams are plagued with weird images that are mostly random, but there is always one consistency: a small brown and white barn owl. This owl appears to me in almost every dream and all it does is stare at me. I feel as though it is some sort of sign or omen. However, I cannot tell which direction it will lead me: good or bad. Because of my dreams and issues with sleeping, my ability to perform well at work or keep up with typical household chores has been greatly affected. Often times I miss the chance to run errands for myself because I will spend the hours of daylight in bed. Sleeping during the day is safer than trying to sleep at night.

Though hauntings usually happen because of a supernatural being that is attached to you or something you own, my case, in particular, is not always at the hands of the deceased. As stated earlier, sometimes when the shift happens, whatever caused it, doesn’t always come out into the light. I’ve spent countless nights trying to figure out what is causing me these dreams and this constant feeling of dread. Whatever it may be, I fear that it may just be the death of me.