Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock. The hours were flying by and I was still stuck behind a computer typing my humanities paper. After writing and rewriting it over I was still left staring at a blinking white page that hid all of my effort into this precious project. Head in my hands and I was ready to give up, my eyelids starting to close in agreement.
12:30 am and still nothing.
“THAT’S IT!” I screamed to the screen. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” With a huff I slammed my computer shut and got ready for bed. I jumped into bed and snuggled into my panda covers with a sigh. “Tomorrow is another day; I got this. She won’t know what’s coming,” I thought and slipped into a calm sleep; or so I thought.
I was floating or at least it felt like I was floating higher and higher in my sleep. Opening my eyes all I saw was blinding light and purple fog that did not belong in my room.
“What’s happening to me?” I screamed and tried to move my body but I was stuck. My breathing got faster and faster as all my worst interpretations of what was
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My eyes rushed open and tried looking around me but I was still groggy of sleep.
“Lucretius? Where am I?” I rubbed my eyes and noticed that I was surrounded by pillows and I could hear barking from a dog who wanted to play. My eyes went back to normal and I noticed I was back in my room. Suddenly I was feeling down. I didn’t want to leave Rome. I was looking forward to what Lucretius was going to show me the next day. “I guess it was a dream,” I shrugged the experience off and heard a knock from my door. “Come in!” I screamed. My younger sister came running and jumped on top of me.
“Hi!” She giggled. Looking down at me her face twisted. “Why are you wearing a costume to sleep?” confused I looked down at myself and noticed I was still wearing the purple draped toga that Lucretius had given
"No," everything was coming out in just a groan of pain. I couldn't even move my head. All of a sudden I felt the world move from beneath me, and I felt warmth radiating off someone. I think Soda had given up and just decided to carry me to the car.
As I awoke I saw the face of a man staring down at me with a look of pure horror and
I heard a blood-curdling scream and I jumped. I felt silent tears running down my heavily scarred face, but they weren’t out of sadness. Mostly. They were a mixture of pain and fear. I ran into the eerie, blood-splattered room and screamed as I felt cold fingers grab my neck.
Slowly, he stumbled towards the wall and pulled himself over it. He then spent the rest of the night, wandering the streets and asking himself what he did wrong to drive away the love of his life. -/-/-/-/-/-/-/- “I just don’t understand!” cried Catullus to his friends Aurelius and Furius while they wandered the market in the forum.
I find myself lying in bed, drifting ever so closely to sleep. My mind is calmly running the days memories through. Deeper and deeper. Closer to dreamland. My body slowly numbs into a more rested state. Abruptly, I am awakened by an incredible force that is pinning my entire body down at once. It is overwhelmingly strong. My limbs wildly try to fight back only to find themselves powerless to this unseen...something...what it is I am unsure. I feel paralyzed. I am physically unable to move a muscle. I try to scream. The noise won't come. I try to scream louder. Still nothing. I want to cry. It's so heavy pushing down on me. I am overwhelmed by darkness and fear. The more I try to push it off it pushes harder and harder down on me. I am unnerved by the fact that I see nothing causing this intense pressure. I feel breathless. I wonder if I've officially lost my mind. Nothing in this world is capable of making me feel so incredibly helpless. I begin to realize there is nothing I can do to stop this from happening. I give in. I accept my defeat. Slowly now the force begins to recede. I find myself making weird babbling noises, grabbing deliriously at my pillows and blankets. I slowly regain control of my muscle movements. The heaviness is no longer hanging in the air. It is just me now. Still lying in my bed. Yet now I lie terrified, confused, and unsure of what just came over me.
11:14 p.m.-I slowly ascend from my small wooden chair, and throw another blank sheet of paper on the already covered desk as I make my way to the door. Almost instantaneously I feel wiped of all energy and for a brief second that small bed, which I often complain of, looks homey and very welcoming. I shrug off the tiredness and sluggishly drag my feet behind me those few brief steps. Eyes blurry from weariness, I focus on a now bare area of my door which had previously been covered by a picture of something that was once funny or memorable, but now I can't seem to remember what it was. Either way, it's gone now and with pathetic intentions of finishing my homework I go to close the door. I take a peek down the hall just to assure myself one final time that there is nothing I would rather be doing and when there is nothing worth investigating, aside from a few laughs a couple rooms down, I continue to shut the door.
I had no idea what was going on and I don’t think he knew either. I could feel myself loosing balance but I fought to stay up right as I covered my ears screaming because I couldn’t stand the pain of never-ending noise pulsing through my head!
Yay!” I yelled, jumping out of bed. It was about 1:30 p.m on a warm, summer day. It was the day after we got home from Florida really late and that's why I slept in so late. “I bet I'm getting my new kitten,” I thought, but then I remembered we were not supposed to get him for another week.
The clock’s ceaseless ticking went on key with the groaning of the fan. The room lit only by a faint light of a window and the glow of a laptop. My head groaned in pain along with the loud hum of the computer. My eyes slowly moved from word to word, studying every crevice in the lines. My hands moved without thought, calculating each problem in every way possible. My hands moved in robotics motions only to be accompanied my gears in my head shifting to thinking about how badly I was going to fail this midterm.
For a while, there was no sound, nothing to disturb the air. The walls remained silent, judgmental, eyeing the empty air with lifeless disposition, the false security of the gaily-painted ceiling and warm yellow wallpaper almost but not quite lulling the room's only inhabitant into dreaming.
The third maddening buzz of my alarm woke me as I groggily slid out of bed to the shower. It was the start of another routine morning, or so I thought. I took a shower, quarreled with my sister over which clothes she should wear for that day and finished getting myself ready. All of this took a little longer than usual, not a surprise, so we were running late. We hopped into the interior of my sleek, white Thunderbird and made our way to school.
I spun into position and pulled myself forwards. The rumble of the crashing falls grew more intense. My lungs burned. Closer. My shoulders seared in pain.
You hear the old grandfather clock strike one in the morning in the eerily quiet household, the only other sound was that of keys on an old typewriter rapidly keying letters and the ding as a new line was started. You could have used a computer, or even hand written the article, but there was something about your father’s typewriter that was comforting, inspiring. Looking up from your article, almost complete for the Sydney Morning Herald, you started to notice how much of a mess you had made, focusing so badly on your project. To your left was a half-eaten sandwich from yesterday’s lunch, sitting behind it was your tea from breakfast the previous morning; the milk has started to curdle. To your right were piles and piles of paper, mostly all the drafts that you kept starting over.
I get my mom. When she gets there, she asks him what is his name. "Daniel," he wheezes out. She asks him what day it is, but his eyes glaze over, and he loses consciousness. She goes in and calls 911. When she comes back out, she tells us that they're on their way. Then she just stands there waiting next to him, and I sit next to him with my hand on his shoulder. He's convulsing, and he gasps. I can feel his body tensing up under my fingers. I let go. He is foaming at the mouth. We talk to him, saying stuff like, "It'll be ok, the ambulance is on its way." and, "Just hold on, Mr. Daniel, hold on, till the ambulance gets here." He's still for 20 or 30 seconds at a time, not even breathing, it seems like. Then he convulses gently. Each time he convulses, I feel myself sighing in relief, that he hasn't gone yet. It is more serious than I had thought at first.
...ed eyes, vision growing fainter, body becoming paralyzed, and the hum of the hospital machines muting to a dull throb. And slowly I rise, rise into the escape of pure bliss.