I woke up from the thick blood dripping out of my ear.
I came to when I felt liquid oozing from my ear— a sensation matched by the feeling of water draining from your ear after a day at the beach. A memory once surrounded by pleasant relief is now plagued by a pounding headache that encroached nearly all my senses.
As I woke, my mind confused, I couldn’t see anything. A blurred filter rested over my vision, and I couldn’t seem to move my arms enough to wipe away the daze. My body was paralyzed. I wondered if I was still sleeping.
The first sense to return was my sense of smell; a tang of iron blessed the air around my nose. Breathing through one nostril, I felt the metallic liquid clog and drip from the other side— first beading above my lip, then dripping onto my pillowcase. Through premonition, the seawater dripping out of my ear was probably matched by that of my nose. Blood.
Unfortunately, leaking blood and a body so sore you become immobile is not an uncommon circumstance for me. Though I don’t remember lying to rest, the events leading up to it are common enough to assume.
Friday night, pay day. My father, on his undocumented construction site, gets paid in cash on Fridays. Friday is also the only day he shows his face at Twin Elks— enough cash to pay delinquent debts and start a tab of his favorite (well) whiskey. Then, when he got kicked out for climbing a new tab and testing the new tail, he would leave to come home.
By the time he got home, he would still be charged up from his new freedom and belly of booze. If my brother or I got caught in his line of sight, you would wake up in a situation similar to one I commonly found myself in.
I must have found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is my fault. I know it’s better to sleep in the yard or hide in our neighbors’ barn than to be present on Friday nights.
It was difficult to think with the rhythmic pounding my head was producing.
Thud.
Where am I?
Thud.
What happened to me?
Thud.
Where’s David?
Thud.
As I continued to come to, waiting for the weariness to clear, I noticed I was in my room. Regardless of what happened, I was glad I had found myself in my bed.
The most movement I could produce was the swivel of my head. However, I could feel the pain in my head rotating with my movements, a constant crown of thorns piercing deeply into all layers.
I suffer through this pain to check my brother David’s bed, catty-corner with my own. If I suffered a beating this bad, I hoped he had been luckier.
I was older, so I usually took the brunt of it— sometimes more reluctantly than others. I felt an innate responsibility to take the hit or play a distraction so he could get away. He never said thank you, but I could see in his eyes that he meant it.
He would sneak me scapes from dinner or a cup of milk, if I was locked in our room. I knew it was his way of saying I owe you. Besides, it wasn’t like he could take it anyway— he was a wuss.
There David was, lying in his bed. Moonlight bounced off his soft, dirty skin. Guess he had gotten luckier than I did. The light illuminated dried tear streaks that ran through the dirt on his face. A dried river running over his nose to the side of his pillow. He must have fallen asleep crying while I selfishly fell asleep.
As I scanned soberly over his face, enjoying the stillness of the room, I started to feel a large vibration through my body. It was so significant I could almost hear it in my bloodied ears.
The vibration ran vibrantly through my body. It felt as if my blood jumped like boiling water inside my body. Then, I could hear the hum travel up the wall to my left. Our room is on the second story of our house, and the vibration seemed to settle on the roof above. Quickly, it hummed down to the ground, then back up.
I quickly shut my eyes. I was old enough not be afraid of monsters, but I still couldn’t comprehend whether I was dreaming or not. Monsters might not be real, but nightmares can feel as real as anything.
There was no movement inside; the stillness remained in our room. There was now just the sound of wind gently nudging the pine branches against our window. Had I imagined this sensation? Could it have been my headache ringing in my ears down to my body?
I wrestled to maintain a sense of self-restraint, to just go back to sleep and ignore this haunting sleep paralysis I was stuck in. Through a facade of bravery, I peeked my eye open to investigate— only a slim creak that no one (or thing) could notice.
A bright light was shining through our window. White, as if someone’s truck headlights were shining against our elevated window. The lights intensified and became blinding. All shadows were eliminated, and my blurry vision was then saturated like a picture developed from exposed film.
I squinted to look at David. He managed to remain asleep against the blinding light.
Then, next to him, I saw something else.
An indescribable figure was leering over my brother. I shut my eyes just as quickly as before. I prayed it did not see that I was awake. I prayed it was not my father. I remained still against my immobile body. Without conscious control, I peeked my eyes once more.
I struggled to comprehend what I was looking at. My brain raced through the shelves of information to match what was standing in front of me, trying to compare it to anything I had ever seen, heard, read, or thought before.
Tall. It was certainly tall. Hovering over the bed, it neared the ceiling. It was amorphous. It had no defined features. Almost blob-like. But there were appendages. At least something that resembled an arm was moving towards my brother. Not an arm that moves from a ball-and-socket, but rather an arm that extends from the form at any height. An extension that moved down the body like a leaf being carried down a tree by ants. Everything fluid. Connected.
Besides these resemblances, my brain could not rationalize the rest. The figure didn’t match any earthly being. Its context didn’t abide by our heavenly bodies.
Through shock, curiosity, and my inherited animosity, I stared on. Its appendage was nearing my brother, and I instinctively fought to get up. I needed to save my brother from it.
Paralyzed.
Whether it was real or from fear, at this point, I couldn’t move. A twitch or flinch of the muscle was as much motion as I could produce. However, my rustling and groans alerted our intruder. No eyes, but I knew its focus shifted towards me. The arm retracted into his body, and it moved in my direction.
It stopped a few feet away, looming over my still, bloodied face. Analyzing. I felt as if I was being scanned. Tested.
I held my breath. I didn’t want the attention anymore. I wanted this all to end. I shut my eyes. This must be a dream— a nightmare scarier than any that preceded.
Through my shut eyes, the being leered on. I could feel the attention on all the bruises, cuts, and blood smeared across my disfigured face. I wonder if it was looking in pity or disgust? Ironically, the fear subsided, and I felt shame more than anything.
The bright light continued to consume the room. I could see the crooked veins in my eyelids as I squeezed them shut.
I could feel the figure returning to my David, then the hum of vibration returned.
A whirling wind entered the room. It felt like a tornado spun up instantly from nowhere. Books and drawings, toys and pencils were now blowing into the air. I struggled to grip my eyes tightly closed, but I had to check on David.
My brother began to levitate out of his bed. Slowly, he floated up, evenly, flat. He was being lifted straight from his slumber, and the blankets that rested over his somber body fell to the floor.
I thrashed my head back and forth— the throb of my headache made it feel as if my head would pop from pressure. My arms and legs are twitching in place.
Take me. Leave him alone. Take me. Put him back down. Take me.
I want to go.
The pain in the head and body welled up to unbelievable strength. I felt as if I was being pressed down by a garbage compactor.
Then, in just a moment, the whole world stopped.
The wind died instantly, just as fast as it began. The light vanished and was replaced by the passive moonlight and dark shadows.
The pressure and pain reduced to just a thud once again.
Thud.
I felt my body finally freed from its entrapment. I shot my eyes open and pushed my body up.
Thud.
The room had returned to stillness.
Thud.
David was gone.
Thud.
Silence.
Thud.
He escaped.
He was never able to say thank you, but I knew that he meant it.
