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Tuesday, May 10, 2011

My Personal Hell

Ladies and gentlemen,

I thought I'd be a little different on my blog today.  It's been eight days without much sleep (five hours at the most) and while I'm still writing (the Ahlephia revamp is coming along nicely), I wanted to share a short story written by one of my favourite authors, Kristian J. Hanson, author of the recently published novel Fat Kid's Wolfy Revenge.  I have asked for Kristian's permission to display this short story (which I am proud to say, he somewhat based on me and my recent lack of sleep) and he agreed.  You can check out his Twitter profile @CraptasticWritr or read a review for his book here:

Now without further delay, I present


I haven’t been able to sleep for six days and I do not know what the problem is. My eyes are heavy but every time I try to close my eyes something passes in front of my eye lids like a bat from hell. I know it is just something that is popping up to keep me awake but what is it? I have tried to sleep at all times of the day, so it cannot be that dreaded vampire I hear about in the storybooks, unless of course this one can sparkle and stay out in the sunlight. Skipping that irrational piece of fucktarded literature, I lay here with my laptop watching the sunrise once again for the seventh day of hell.

As the night went on I saw shadows dancing across my wall like mythical creatures talking to one another, mocking me that I could not sleep. I even researched the fact that some people seem to stay awake for days on end until it kills them, like literally kills them. The brain just won’t shut down and you eventually become like a zombie, but not the brain eating type of zombie; the I can’t wipe my own ass or stop from pissing myself type of zombie.

I remember this happening to me once when I was a kid, but I never told my parents because whenever I would go to sleep I would look through my bedroom door that was open into the blackness of the hallway that lead directly into the bathroom. Having seen scary movies from a young age I saw this shadow constantly pacing in front of my bedroom door shape shifting into all of the horror icons that I feared. One moment it was a werewolf, the next it was the acid bleeding alien from Alien. I kept telling myself this shit was not real, but I am starting to believe it is. Just a minute ago I saw my worst fear walk across my bedroom door frame, Barack Obama, our President. All right, that isn’t true, but I needed to get a laugh out of this horrific story of mine.

What I really saw, wasn’t so much what I saw, but what I heard. I don’t own any pets and I have never had a rat problem, so it is really hard to discredit, and this creature has such a unique sound it is hard to miss, and it literally terrified me into feeling like I had caffeine injected into my jugular via a needle. I keep saying that the next step in energy drinks is a syringe and a red bull where you tap that shit into your vein for an instant high like heroine, but without the side effects of grinding teeth and raping your grandmother for funds to support your habit.

No this was the sound that the face hugger from Aliens makes as it crawls across the floor. This figure that stands guard outside my door waiting for me to come out knows my darkest fear, and that truly is the deepest fear that I have in regards to non-living things. It looks like a spider but jumps onto your face placing you into a coma as it fucks your face and impregnates you with the alien creature. Once the baby is done, it bursts through your rib cage killing you in a painful and horrific way. Did I mention the face hugger looks like a vagina when its legs are open readying to strike? I think most nights if I woke up with a vagina flying at my face I would welcome it, but not this kind because it wants nothing to do but bring me pain and death.

The day has come and gone and again I called out from work sick due to not being able to focus on one act. I have taken sleeping pills but every time I begin to fall asleep something falls in my apartment or a door slams. It is messing with me and I have even tried to leave but that doesn’t work either. So I sit again in my bed staring at the door with all of the lights out as the shadow constantly changes from Alien, to Freddy Krueger, to the next scariest thing, a big fucking spider. When this happens all I see is the long hairy legs begin to enter the doorway as the eyes begin to glisten in the darkness. I can see those beady eyes just staring at me as it rears up the front legs revealing those glistening fangs dripping with venom. It is beckoning me to come forth to meet my end, but I am stricken with fear and unable to move. Slowly the spider turns away and exits the doorway as my eyes close and I am finally asleep.

I wake up with a thud on the floor and realize I am wrapped in a massive spider-web being dragged across the floor in my apartment. I can feel myself spinning in the air as the thing has hung me from the ceiling. I scream and try to get out of the cocoon but there isn’t anything that I can do, I am trapped as I feel the spinning stop, and it becomes quiet once again. I sit, and wait for the worst, for this is not a dream, this is my life. I am trapped inside of myself, inside of my shell of a body unable to escape the horrors that I am currently in. Everyone is crowded around my bedside but no one can hear me because I cannot speak. I am not even really typing on a laptop; this is all in my head, because I am in a state of unconsciousness from a coma. This is my prison, and my re-occurring nightmare that I live. One day I will wake up, one day.

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