literature

Paranoia

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Literature Text

The ambient silence of the house is what welcomes me when my eyes snap open. Curled up in my tangled blanket I wake up as my sleep clouded confusion tries to dull my waking senses. I allow myself to adjust to the darkness before I let my eyes trail over to where my clock rests atop desk that's crammed up against the end of my bed. Blaring red numbers reading '4:00 am' stand out proudly against the inky darkness that shrouds my room. It's early, way too early for my liking. Why did I wake up so early? I frown slightly at the notion that my body decided to wake itself up for seemingly no apparent reason other than to spite myself for deciding to stay up late.

I frown only for a moment though before I turn on my side and let my eyes drift shut to reclaim the sleep I've lost. Yet with my eyes now closed again I cannot help but notice that something feels....different. It's a feeling that had been insinuating it's way quietly and unnoticed through my mind the moment I had opened my eyes. It's simply paranoia of course. That's what I reassure myself as I dismiss the feeling and snuggle deeper into the warm comfort of my bed.

The nagging feeling persists though, getting stronger as the seconds go by. The feeling seeps and spreads through me as I instinctively curl up in my blanket. The irrational feeling of fear that an unseen presence is in my house, no, in my room. I keep my eyes closed as I reassure myself that my mind is just paranoid from lack of sleep.

There isn't a figure standing in my cramped room.

There isn't a figure looming over me. 

Watching and waiting.

Its mere imagined presence daring me to open my eyes. To peek over my shoulder to acknowledge its presence so it can make its move and revel in my fear. 

I won't look. I won't turn my head and open my eyes. It's not real after all.

It's not real.

It's not really there...

Why does my mind insist that it is?

The feeling seeps deeper, willing me to look. Just to check over my shoulder. Just a tiny harmless peek. My eyes stay firmly closed with the irrational notion that once I open my eyes I can't undo the action. That I can't continue to feign obliviousness even if the figure is not real. Because of course it's not real right? If it's not real then...opening my eyes is...harmless...right..? The feeling worms its way inside my head, encouraging my thoughts. 

A soft sigh escapes my lips. I'll just open my eyes and look before going back to bed. Maybe then my mind will give up this ridiculous paranoia and let me sleep. I shift my body, turning it to face the rest of my room. I take a moment to sigh softly once more then...

I open my eyes.

It's just paranoia.....right...?
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