My Night Terrors Make Me Afraid To Fall Asleep


Ringing in my ears, like a high pitch static. My eyes fly open as my hand clutches my neck. I cough and splutter as if someone has been weighing down on me. My throat is sore, it feels as if someone gagged me with a hot branding iron.

I can almost see it: the purple flowers vining itself across my throat in dark and twisted bruises. I cannot speak for someone has tried to silence me through my dreams.

My limbs feel heavy, heavier than sleep- like lead they sink into my bed, unreachable to me. I am glowing; but it’s not a happy glow. I am shining from sweat, it covers every inch of me. My clothes cling to me like a second skin that I have to peel off myself the way one would peel an orange.

My mind is nowhere and everywhere.

I cannot decide if the tears that sting my eyes are from fear or pain. The fear that I experienced all those years ago that still haunt me with every step I take and every time I allow myself to close my eyes. Or is it the pain of remembering the trauma that tainted me. Maybe I feel self-pity? Maybe I’m just so tired I cry. I

turn my head to read my clock: 04:35. There’s no point in trying to sleep where I know I’ll just be transported to ten years prior and the sounds of harsh curse words slicing through the air and glass shattering on the floor will echo around me till I am nothing but a screaming mess.

So I try to sit up, my body aching and crying for peace. I swing my legs over the side of my bed and try to stand. But my legs are like jello and wobble with instability as I try to find my footing. I wobble my way to the shower and peel off my soaken clothes. I climb into the water and let it clean me off my night terrors.

I wash away the fear and pain and await another day of pretending that I’m not afraid to fall asleep.