Nightmares

9 0 0
                                    

I blinked, laying in a cold swamp of sweat and sheets. My eyes wandered in the dull morning light. I looked around at the pale colored walls. They were blue, like her eyes, so I painted over them in white.

I lingered in limbo, again. Dry and bloodshot, blinking, my eyes rolled over in bitter attempts to sleep. The sheets smelled rank, like her perfume, so I burned them in the fire pit that night.

My stomach churned, as I drowsed in the grey twilight. The taste in my mouth was moist and sour, like her lips, so I jumped out of bed and brushed my teeth. The froth oozed between my lips as the bristles scratched and scrubbed. I spat in the sink, leaving a salty pink foam to soak on my tongue. 

I woke up breathless at 2am. The air squeezed from my neck, like her hands. I ran out to my car, blurry eyed and shaking. I drove with the windows down until the sun painted the skyline purple. Then, I could breathe easy.

My eyes darted open in the inky darkness. The joints controlling my limbs had snapped during slumber, and I lay motionless. My body ached in my attempt to escape, yet every time I closed my eyes, the feeling of her finger tips dug into my flesh. Every blink brought back the bruises around my eyes. The trees shaking in the wind outside resonated with the cackling in my mind, piercing my ears until they rang in the night. Every tear I shed left stains from her inflictions upon my cheek. And every dream I dreamt left nightmares in place of memories.

NightmaresWhere stories live. Discover now