Night dense ... I do not notice the umpteenth creak of wood that are always stimulates my concerns as soon as I turn out the light to sleep, or reflections that sometimes we know, there, where there had never states, shaped in the dark, the dark walls, the light coming from outside but which certainly can never determine the source. Do not check if the girl sitting on a chair to read that book from the year in which it was hanging on the wall, is in some other position than that which the painter has chosen for her. Do not get lost in these thoughts, not now, because I already did.
I'm sleeping and I have already gone through my usual fears aside with one or more "can not be" that I learned in a lifetime to use as a dust to smother the sparks of fear before they turn into flames of sleepless terror, in many or a few nights when we are forced to recharge our batteries as members of meat and sublimate some unconscious desire that the reality does not allow us to give us.
But I wake up: for drinking, piss, to see that reality is still there or simply for something that attracted me: a settling of the building, a slight earthquake, an alignment of the Earth, a presence cold can not touch me, an angel who loves me or hates me ...
Anyway I get to go to the bathroom. Find the light switch with outstretched hands in the black eyes just opened have not yet begun to fade. I find it - tlic - the light does not turn on - tlic - tlic - nothing happens. Thoughts fast as groggy from sleep, there's electric ironically, helped by slightly accelerated heartbeat from the setback caused by having to find an alternative. Meanwhile, the pupils dilate
accustomed to the darkness, leaving me finally feel the soft whiteness of the brightest coming from the kitchen that has just raised the blinds of the balcony. I bring to the corresponding switch I do not see perfectly, but in memory I find it hard to find - tlic - will not turn on - tlic - tlic - tlic tlic tlic - Suddenly back to visit me a sense of claustrophobia I suffered as a child ... as if someone would hold your nose . I think - should be skipped the light - of course! a black-out, no doubt - instinctively and immediately seek the person who led the TV is on the shelf and red, bright and still says the opposite, and creeps in me a restless mind that I try to resist not increase the anxiety it causes, but a thought that chess is already thinking you're doing, turn my head to the bathroom: the light is now on. I'm going to see. But already My first step was off again. I try to turn in the kitchen - tlic - dark - tlic tlic tlic - still dark ... dark ... dark ...
I take off your finger on the fast and instantly alternating flashes of light and dark. They look like those neon broken that I have always given a sense of disease ... hospital, the same effect of a broken hand trembling expressed their sorrow silent suffering ... the anxiety gets to me ... Is there anybody home, a presence that you are having fun making fun of me in my panic. I try to rationalize: - not. can not be -... alternate the lights of the kitchen and bathroom. I try to scream but my voice is drowned ... - 'm dreaming! I'm dreaming! - ... ... I'm already dreaming ... finally open my eyes and breathe ...
I find myself in bed awake and sweat, but calm. What a bad dream . I'm thirsty. I get up but I feel so heavy ... I can only walk on all fours and the deck is glued on me ... arrival in the kitchen, try the switch - tlic - will not turn on. The red LED on the TV, I can not move, they are petrified by fear and the bathroom door you are opening up ... no! no! no!
I wake up with a click of tension in my bed ... a nightmare nightmare. Incredible e. I'm not even sweating, and there's my brother, I had forgotten it was in the house tonight ... I get out of bed to go to the bathroom, they are still restless, but his presence relaxes me ... by without turning on the light. For some reason in the nightmares of shortly before the turn I wanted at all costs, I never do, and why that sense of claustrophobia that I have not ever had? as if I was not really me ....
Suddenly a shiver runs down my spine right on the head leaving me reeling and preparing the reactions that a body can be taken only by terror: I have a brother ... my heart is torn in the chest to the impulse of violent every beat ... I try to turn the light on the mirror ... I can not find ... but I've always found the dark. I feel in my hands a - tlic - Turning on the light, but in the place where I find the switch there's never been one. The heart pumps blood into the block in my legs froze the skin, leaving the empty capillary blood heat and spasms of trembling hands and cold, a strong sense of nausea I suggests that the red cells of the head, which now spins are missing the call.
The light and the mirror reveals a shocking truth: I'm in a bathroom that is not mine, I'm looking into a mirror that is not mine, a face that is not my ...
I try to scream, but it's like taking a note so high that I can only account for not possessing it. I never want to see ... not I want! I do not want to be there, I will not look at that face. The lights suddenly go out under the command of my thoughts ... I do not understand how, but it is so ... I hear someone approaching the door of the bathroom ... looks groping for the light switch. I do not want to find it, I do not want the lights, and do not ... I do not succeed ... tlic
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