The room is normal, everything around me is simple and I feel a bit tired, but nothing extreme. I’m getting warm, but it’s not hot out. As the time eases on there is a speck that appears in my vision and then more. It’s happening I think, but I have no reason to worry because I have no control over it and it may be awhile before it takes full effect.
The room turns to liquid, everything is covered in a gloss, it appears I am now underwater.
My hearing is there, but it’s muffled some sounds. Music remains un tampered with and voices appear farther away, I understand but I can’t communicate. I try, but my words wont come out. My legs feel wobbly and my breath is light.
“I must have ran a marathon.”
I want to sit down, but maybe I should stand. My head feels tight and there is a surge of electricity surging through it. My stomach is in a ball and rising and my shoulder gives a twitch here and there. I feel like the electricity is pulling my forehead back and my face will come off soon from it’s tugging.
“I’d hate to be faceless.” My eyes are heavier and they begin to be pulled upward and I want to tell it to stop. “My eye’s might fall from their sockets and roll onto the floor like I’m rolling the dice to move forward. “I don’t want to lose my eye balls.”
I struggle to come back and stop the pulling, my breath feels harder and I sigh because I find a moment of relief, but it comes again and then tremor begins. I am shaking and I can’t stop it. It’s not painful, but my muscles are working too hard. I can’t feel my legs, “Are they still there?” I can’t find my toes, they were there before, what happened to my legs? I try hard to move a leg, I try harder and finally it moves a little but it’s heavy. I don’t remember having weights on my legs.
The pulling of my forehead and eyes has stopped and I feel my muscles relaxing and sleep wants to come. I want to sleep, but I’m afraid to fall asleep. I try to open my eyes but they hurt and everything too bright.
“This must be what it’s like to be born.” Everything’s new, but it’s not. I remember, “this is my living room. I’m on the sofa and the tv is playing children songs. Their annoying, but my kids enjoy them so I leave them on. I sit up and look around, I am sleepy. I lay back down and rest. I wake drooling on my pillow and groggy. My body feels weak.
My legs still wobbly as I get up and walk. “I had another one.” “I keep thinking I can stop them, or they don’t really exist, but then it comes and I can’t stop it