Tag Archives: Fear

Bed Time

Author’s Note:
This is one I did right before bed one night in April. I thought I had more to write on it, but nothing is coming forward yet. I’ll edit as necessary. In the meantime, I wanted to get it down so I wouldn’t lose it. I don’t know the artist on the image. If you do, let me know and I’ll be sure to give credit.

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I turn off the lights and slip under the covers of my bed.
Laying there staring at the night ceiling, I suddenly feel the claws of night rake down my back.
I scream, but no one hears my cries stream down my face leaving silver trails behind them.
The darkness creeps in and surrounds me with black tangles of waking nightmares.
I cannot breathe.


Fear

Fear-Anxiety-phobia

It hits me the moment I step out of the car. My stomach lurches in an attempt to retch away the odors assaulting me. The faint hints of bleach and antiseptic barely mask the decay and toothy smoke smell that surrounds the building.

Walking toward the door, the stench intensifies and I can almost taste the barely concealed rot. I gag harder.

Sneaking quick breaths between long moments of not breathing at all, I stagger to the door of the office. The door squeals ominously as I open it and I’m surrounded by a sudden cacophony of sounds. The sucking and scraping provide a background for the whine of the drills digging. Mumbled voices slurping and moaning around devices in their mouths are mixed with impulsive whimpers of pain.

I collapse into a chair in the waiting room, my heart beating out the seconds to my appointment time. I absently stare at the pages of a magazine, dabbing the beads of sweat from my forehead with trembling hands.

I recoil when the nurse calls my name.

“The dentist will see you now!”