Night Terrors

She announced her presence with a whisper and a wail, dragging me from my sleep. Frozen in terror, I watched her climb atop my bed, straddling my torso, pinning me to the mattress with her thighs. Draped in darkness and dripping with devastating beauty, she captivated me. Despite the fear that clutched my pounding heart, I could not tear my gaze away from her stunning lavender eyes glowing against her alabaster skin and framed by luxurious cascading black locks. Somehow I knew that before me loomed the embodiment of both beauty and death. I wanted to run from and surrender to her all at once.

But I was frozen, unable to move or speak. I could not even blink. I had become her prey and I felt certain I would die in her arms with a smile on my lips and terror in my eyes.

She leaned forward, pressing one hand against my throat, wrapping her long thin fingers tight enough for her needle sharp fingernails to pierce my skin. She lowered her face, inches from my own and parted her plump, ruby lips releasing an ear curdling shriek intended to stop my heart.

"It's okay, you're safe."

The deep voice broke through the trance, wrapping around me, a lifeline. The words repeated, shattering her spell and forcefully yanking me back to reality. Now fully awake, I found myself lovingly cradled in his arms, his hand stroking my face gently. I could still hear her shrieking until I realized the sound came from me and silenced the terrified wail. He cooed at me like a small child as I gasped for the breath she had nearly strangled out of me. I looked into his green eyes, strong and safe. No harm could ever find me in his muscular embrace. If she was the embodiment of beauty and death, he was the embodiment of security and peace.

My breathing evened out and my heart slowed to a normal pace.

"What happened? Why were you screaming?" He whispered patiently.

"I thought there was someone else in here, a demon woman. She was trying to kill me." I buried my face in his chest, hiding my shame and seeking refuge from my fear.

"Again?"

I nodded my head sheepishly, embarrassed by my childish night terrors. Now awake, and in his arms, I could explain it away as nothing more than a nightmare. I knew I was perfectly safe in my bed.

But I also knew she'd be back again tomorrow night, just as she had been here the night before and the night before that. I knew she waited for me just beyond the veil of sleep, eager to claim me as her victim. Even now, I could still feel the grip of her talons on my throat. For weeks now I fought sleep, knowing she would find me within its folds. Despite being a full grown woman of thirty-five, I cowered in fear of the darkness like a toddler.

"I think it's time you see someone," he looked at me over his bowl of cereal the next morning. "Neither one of us has gotten a full night's sleep in weeks. We can't keep going like this."

I bristled at the suggestion, not wanting to be seen as crazy, though it seemed more and more likely I was going mad. But the decision was taken out of my hands later that afternoon when my boss called me into his office with a somber look on his face.

“I know you've had a rough year,” he began gently, “but it's getting to the point we can no longer cover for you. Your work’s slipping. You miss deadlines, make uncharacteristic errors, you struggle to pay attention in meetings, and you keep falling asleep at your desk. You've put in a lot of years of dedicated service so we’ve let things slide. But I can't keep asking everyone else to pick up the slack for you. I want you to take the next week off to sort things out and I've scheduled a meeting for you tomorrow with our company psychologist.”

Begrudgingly, I went to see Dr. Monroe the next morning. When I entered her office, she had her back to me, looking out her window. I closed the door behind me and she turned at the sound. Her long black locks framed her pale face and she fixed her lavender gaze on me, freezing me in place. A coy smile played about her deep red lips as they parted and she began to shriek.

I woke with a start, my scream ripping me back into reality where I found myself sitting in the waiting room being scrutinized by two other patients, the receptionist, and a portly middle-aged woman with frizzy salt and pepper hair.

“Ah, you must be my ten o'clock,” her smile was gentle, not at all sinister. Once she shut the door behind me she jumped straight in. “So, that looked like a night terror. Tell me about it.”

So I did. I told all about my nightly visits from the she-demon, sharing every terrifying detail. I even confided that as much as I dreaded seeing her, part of me yearned for her visits, almost craved them.

Then Dr. Monroe surprised me by changing topics. “Your boss mentioned in his referral that your sister passed away earlier this year. Tell me about that.”

“It was cancer.” I shrugged.

“Were you close to her?”

“Sure, she was my sister.”

“But some sisters are closer than others. Would you consider her a friend?”

“My best friend.” I shrugged again and noticed a hint of judgement pass Dr. Monroe’s face.

“Did you get to say goodbye to her before she passed?"

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about that.” She pushed.

“She never married and our parents live out of state so it was just me with her in the end. I held her hand as she passed.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

“How long after that did your night terrors start?”

I thought for a second, "A couple weeks, I guess."

"And have you ever watched anyone else die?" Dr. Monroe's question made me fidget awkwardly, trying in vain to get comfortable.

"No."

"And is there a part of you that wishes you could have died with her?"

"Of course not!" I spat the words with enough force I almost convinced myself. But Dr. Monroe was not fooled.

"Let me clarify. I'm not asking if you're suicidal. I'm asking if sometimes you wish you could be with her, even if it means dying," Dr. Monroe fixed her steady gaze on me, unwavering as she waited patiently for the response.

I am afraid to answer and, when I do, it's barely a whisper, “All the time.”

Dr. Monroe smiled knowingly, almost a half laugh, but not mocking. It was somehow kind and reassuring.

“Well the good news is, you're not crazy. Your mind is simply trying to sort through the trauma of being faced with that moment between life and death, watching your sister die, losing your best friend, and wishing you could be with her. It's manifesting as a Night Terror that is both frightening and enticing because you are torn between a lot of difficult emotions that you aren't dealing with during the day. You're going to have to start grieving your sister, talking about her death and her life, and figure out how to move forward without her. If you don't, your Night Terrors will continue, they may even get worse.”

“I talk about my sister,” I insisted.

“Do you?" She paused and fixed that knowing gaze on me. "Because when I asked you questions, you gave me matter-of-fact replies with no emotion and as little information as possible. You never even said her name. It seems you are holding your memories of her at bay, refusing to let yourself feel the emotions they carry.”

I mulled over her words the rest of the day and they still weighed heavy on my mind as I went to bed. Had I tried to lock away my memories so I wouldn't have to feel the pain? I tossed and turned trying to drift off to sleep while battling my fear of what I would find in my dreams. But eventually darkness wrapped its comfortable arms around me and I surrendered to my exhaustion.

My eyes flew open and there she was, looming over me, her beautiful face inches away from my own. Her hand clutched my throat tightly and with my last gasp of air I whispered my sister's name. The demon opened her ruby lips and I braced for the wail.

That's when I became aware of another presence. First just the feeling, then I saw a familiar olive toned hand cover the demon's mouth, silencing her would-be shriek. Another arm wrapped around the demon's torso and pulled her from her perch atop me. I gasped for breath as I watched the demon shrink away into the shadows.

But I was not alone. My savior smiled as she sat down on the edge of my bed, her deep-set chestnut eyes glistening with unshed tears. I sat up and wrapped my arms around her.

"I miss you," I whisper. "I miss you so much it hurts."

I woke in his arms, sobbing for the first time since she died. He didn't ask any questions. He just held me until I finally cried myself into a sound and dreamless sleep.