This wouldn't leave me alone last night and I needed to sleep. Here it is...
Its cold. So cold I fear I may get sleepy cold. Sleepy cold is bad. It hurts for weeks. I have to fight it. I move as much as the suicidally (murder, its murder, boogyman will kill you... wants you dead) short chain and my own agony will allow. I notice the weak mewling noise and recoil, hunting for the kitty. I have to escape the kitty... its gouged out eyes will accuse me. Blame me. Show me my monster. But, there is no kitty. The sound is coming from me. The kitty is me. Its in me. The monster is me. Its in me. This realization terrifies me and I start to really shriek and fight. The chain digs into my throat and abrades the skin there. I know I have to stop. The blood starts to flow from my neck and I hear the floor above me creak. I know I have to stop, must stop, STOP... but my absolute horror is driving me. I cannot calm myself.
And then, the boogyman is there. And some part of me is glad. The intensity of my physical agony takes some of the vitality of the absolute panic of my realization.
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