I am lying in the pitch black darkness of my room. The surrealness and dankness of the empty space envelopes me. I cant move a muscle nor limb. I see in the corner of the room a figure positioned diagonally away from my bed. A hooded figure of black. A figure of nothing and everything stares back at me. Its eyes pierce my soul. The feverishness of its desire to hurt me, is so close yet so far away. Like the smell of coffee in the air, I can taste its breath on my nose. I am afraid. I am afraid in this moment, terrified of what may become of me. Petrified that if I close my eyes those would be my last moments. The pumping of blood vessels in my head cue me to be prepared for anything. The eb and flow of my fan cool the heat of my body. A precursor of whats to come?

I turn on the lights afraid to sleep. Too afraid to close my eyes and wrangle with the thoughts of the day and face the height of death's magnificent door ever so close to me.