Sunday, February 20, 2011

Sleepless - Updated

Story I posted last week with edits (I've finished it, but the part I finished hasn't been properly edited and it's very noticeable so I'm not posting the complete version yet XD). I noticed in a few spots I have jolting (lack of) transitions and I'm working on incorporating that into my style for this story because it feels appropriate. This story will probably need one more good, tough rewrite before I'm satisfied with how it feels (needs to be more surreal, mysterious).
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My eyes are watering again. I crush them with the heel of my hand, trying to press back the tears but they keep coming. Ignoring my burning eyes, I brush strands of hair from my forehead. Too hot, too hot. There is a glass of water on my bedside table. If I want to reach it I will have to roll over. I do not want to turn around. But it's too hot. I close my eyes, even though darkness already blinds me. I roll over slowly, trying not to shift the blankets. The silence, the stillness, makes me nervous. I reach my hand out, guiding it towards where I believe the glass is but I am shaking and my hand jerks and I hit the glass, the crystal glass, and it falls to the floor, smashing into a hundred pieces. The water that touches the floor vanishes with a sizzle. Shards of glass fly up towards me and bury themselves in my ears. I clutch at my ears but I am too slow, they are bleeding already. Blood trickles down the side of my face, drips onto my lips and into my mouth. Even now I can still hear the ringing echoes of the crystal shattering. It’s so warm. I can’t resist now, it's too damn hot and besides, the glass already made more of a disturbance than I ever will. I pull off my blankets and toss them to the ground. Stagnant air reaches my skin. It does not provide the cool relief I had hoped for. What’s that sound? Hissing. I can hear them moving. [The sound, the rhythm of movement is hypnotic.] I look over the edge of the bed. Snakes, masses of snakes, cover the floor, some twisted together in knots but most writhing over the others. The broken glass must have woken them. I am still and silent but then I blink and every creature stops moving and stares at me. Their heads are disproportionately large for their slender bodies, those heads that are oddly shaped like that of a human newborn. My stomach churns as the tiny mouths on these human-snakes open simultaneously and begin to wail. I clutch at my blankets and tug them over my head and bury my face in the pillow. The snakes leap up, launching themselves towards me just as the glass did. They scream and cry and howl as they land on the bed. I can feel them ripping the blankets. I push my face deeper into the pillow. Go away, go away, go away. My body is [heating] up and I do not want to hide under these blankets for long. The weight lifts from my bed. The screams fade. Thank God. I peel back the covers and try to give myself to Sleep, but now I hear music. A deep, booming sound that shakes the bed with every not. A song I know all too well: [Bach’s Toccata & Fugue], coming from an organ. The sound is octaves lower than any I have ever heard before, beyond any frequency human ears can detect, but I hear the song. I sit up. The sound resonates within me, rattling my bones and heart and soul. I reach my hand to the top of my head. The music drives me to this. I hold a strand of hair between two fingers and tug. My scalp stings for a moment where the hair comes out. I grab another strand and I [yank] again. As the song swells and fades and pounds on, I clutch more strands of hair, bigger clumps, and continue to pull. The music stops. My hair lies on the blankets around me. I feel a touch cooler now that I do not have [insulation] on my head. But still. My skin burns.

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