The walls part 1
Dear diary,
Something strange happened today… Today was my Pawpaw’s funeral. I absolutely hate funerals; the socialization always wears me out. After the funeral, I needed to get away from everyone and just sit alone. I was sitting on the couch scrolling through social media. In my peripheral vision, I saw someone walk past the living room door and down the hall. It was my grandpa. I know for a fact it was him. It couldn’t be anyone else; everyone was dressed in their best black clothes. Pawpaw wore a navy blue jumpsuit for work, and that's exactly what he was wearing as he passed by the door. Also, he’s the only 6’5 person in the family. I thought I could be wrong, but I checked the hall and all the rooms in the house, and I was the only one inside. I even went out and asked to be completely sure. I was, in fact, the only one in the house.
Dear diary,
I NEED to tell you about what just happened today! Just as I do every night, I turned off my lights, turned my fan on high, and closed my bedroom door. As you know, I’m an extremely light sleeper. So light that the sound of Mama inserting her key into the front door in the early hours of the morning, when she got home from work, wakes me up.
Tonight I fell asleep rather quickly; the house was silent, only the sound of my ceiling fan whipping through the cold air. I did not dream tonight. The sound of the front door creeping open woke me. I assumed it was my mama trying her best not to wake me after work. But her slow and heavy footsteps were not what came through that door. It was a fast and quiet scurry of claws against the hardwood floors. The footsteps stopped at the start of the hallway. The loud click of the light switch, then the slow taps of the claws, continued. Tatatatap… Tatatatap… Tatatatap… Tatatatap… I tried to open my eyes and move, but I was stuck in place.
In my mind's eye, I could see its shadow approach from the gap beneath my door. It slowly cracked my door, creeping inside. Tatatatap… Tatatatap… it crawls its way up the leg of my bed and under my covers. I could feel the weight of its body as it touched the mattress. Its claw grabs my leg, jolting me out of my perilization with a guttural scream.
Mama slams into the room, frantically turning on the light. “What's wrong, what's happening, are you okay?”
“Something grabbed my leg, something grabbed my leg!” I scream as I scoot to the far corner of my bed. My mom rips the covers off, nothing there. “I heard it come in the front door and turn on the hallway light.”
“The hallway light is off, and the doors are locked and bolted. I think it was just a nightmare.”
“But I know what I felt.”
Diary, I Know. What. I. Felt.
Dear diary,
I’ve started having these terrible nightmares every night since that thing that grabbed my leg. It’s always something different. One night, a werewolf was chasing me, but I just couldn’t run fast enough. My chest heavy, my lungs burning. I can’t scream my, no sound will leave my lips. He catches me and pushes me to the ground. He pins me down with no way of freeing myself, but still I try. With every movement I make, his grip tightens on my arms. His mouth opened and his jaws unhinged, drool dripping on my face. His teeth are sharp and stained with blood. I try once more to scream, but still nothing comes out. In an instant, he chomps down on my throat, and my eyes shoot open. Yet I still cannot move; a shadow looms over me, pinning me down. I cannot breathe; it feels as if something is still crushing my throat, digging deep into my skin. I try with all my might to move. If I can get even the smallest part of my body to move, I could free myself from all this. With great effort, I was able to get my pinky finger to move. It started with my pinky, then the rest of my fingers, but still nothing else. It felt like I was suffocating, something was sitting on my chest, and choking me. One last try at screaming. A small moan gurgling up in my throat, more, I needed more. That gurgling moan erupts into a crescendo of a scream. And at its climax, I jolted up with a heavy gasp of air. I was finally free. I can’t go back to sleep, so I think I'll just scroll on my phone for the rest of the night.
Dear diary,
It's been 6 long months… I'm so tired… Every single night, I wake up screaming. I’m so exhausted. I haven't had a complete night's sleep in so long. I know I’m too old to be sleeping in mama’s bed, but some nights the dreams are just so terrifying that I’m too scared to go back to sleep, and being next to her really helps. I guess I’m lucky to have such a kind and loving mom. Thought I do wish I didn't wake her up every night, too. I really hope the night terrors stop before I move into my dorm room. I’d hate for the girls I room with to have to deal with this bullshit as well.
Dear diary,
Good news and bad news. Good news, the night terrors stopped the night I moved into my dorm room. Bad news, I absolutely hate this school, and I'm transferring to a more local university and moving back home. I can’t wait to have my own room again and go back to having a queen-sized bed. The ones at school are absolute ass and ridiculously small.
Dear diary,
I dropped out of school to help take care of Grandma. We’ve been having to take care of her every winter. It seems she only gets sick when the weather is cold. She sleeps in my room when she stays over for help. I'm hoping now that I’m not preoccupied with school work, I should be able to be of more help this time around.
Dear diary,
It’s summertime, but Grandma is still sick. We’re going on vacation to the beach, and I hope the warm weather and sun will help her feel better. I’m so excited to spend some time with her and the rest of the family outside of the house.
Dear diary,
It did not help. Shes passed away a week after we got back from the beach. I think I’ll take a break from everything and everyone for a while.