In My Head

I wake up in the middle of the night. Was it a loud noise? Was it a bad dream that woke me from my sleep?

I don't know. I'm not sure.

But I lay there, on my side, legs curled up close to my body, clutching my pillow, eyes wide open and I don't dare move.

I'm frightened for some reason. I don't dare move. Why am I so scared? Why do I feel if I turn around, there will be someone there? I'm alone. I know I'm alone. I know there's noone there and yet I dare not move, paralyzed by fear in the dark quiet house.

I close my eyes, trying so hard to relax and go back to sleep. But I can't. This menacing feeling of someone being in my room is terrifying me. I'm too scared to look under the bed. They always hide under the bed, right? Or are they in the closet?

My room almost looks unfamiliar and unwelcoming while these thoughts are further fueling my paranoia.

I'm losing my mind. I'm terrified, I can't even move, and I have no idea of what.

The unknown? It's always worse in our head right? It always grows into abnormal proportions and drives us insane.

I don't know how, but eventually I guess I drifted back to sleep. I woke up and there was light coming through the window. I woke up in the same curled up position I was. My body is aching.

I look under the bed. No, there's no monster there with big sharp claws waiting for the perfect moment to grab me and shred me to pieces.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

It was in my head.

It's always in our head.