the life and musings of a kinky slut


~ an imagined nightmare ~

I felt my body before I ever opened my eyes. I was tired, achy, from long days of work multiple days in a row. I didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to move, didn’t want to rip off my covers and start another long day. But I had to.

Still, I could snooze, just a little bit.

I pulled my covers tight to my face, curled my body in, and…

Nothing. Where was it?

My eyes shot open. I tried again.

Nothing. Tension came to my neck.

Again. Nothing.

I sat up, the cold air of the winter morning less shocking then normal.

I tried to speak, tried to say something, anything.

Nothing. Again. Nothing.

My hands went to my throat. Tears filled my eyes. I cried, but I couldn’t wail. I tried to yell, but there was no sound over my breath, no utterance except air.

I stumbled out of bed, tripped towards my door, and found it locked. I banged my hand against it. I pulled, wrenched at the doorknob.

Nothing. I slammed my fists against the wood. I silent screamed til my throat was raw, then slowly I slid down to the floor.

I curled into a ball again, my tears slipping sideways across my face, pooling on the hardwood.

I silently whimpered. I quietly wailed. I cried.

I closed my eyes.

And then I awoke in my bed, tense, exhausted, and alarmed. I took a deep breath. And I hummed, the soothing way I always hum when I’m waking from or slipping to slumber.

And the world was okay again.

Categorised as: Gen Fiction | Moments of Terror

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