Night Terrors...part 2...the story

The second part, story part, of a Musecrafters Challenge Night Terrors   I stretched on my bed, alone, as the clock ticked. Radiant moonlight drenched me in its glow, like icy murmurs of ghosts outside swishing in the snow. I don't know why I imagined them as playful, "swishing" in the snow. Everyone knows ghosts are fearsome creatures. But really, what interest have I in ghosts? I closed my eyes and prayed for slumber. But the flickering moonlight transformed to a strobe racing in frantic bolts across my body, fueled by a windy concert master who made tree limbs outside the window tremble in the moonlight. And tremble, so did I. The murmurs again. This time they lingered in my ears, cementing their presence...here in my room. I bolted up, eyes wide, jaw dropped, my own heavy breathing then the only sounds. Gazing about, I saw nothing. I laid back down and closed my eyes. The strobes took center stage again, pulsating like wacky electrical charges across my prone torso. My heart picked up on their rhythm, pounding in unison to the light strikes. The murmurs again, this time louder, roaring like a train in the distance. And the lights pounded,  pounded across my body. Lights, pounding vibration, whispers and gentle squeals, lights...my body joined in the raucous. I felt it give way to the demands of the moment, vibrating in a frenetic display; but it wasn't my torso that moved...it was my soul. My soul pounded, demanding to be let go. It quivered in my chest, then dissatisfied, thumped harder, until finally it screamed against my pleas to stay put. And then I felt it escape. With a tug and a screech, it pulled free of my desperate demands and with new life shot up to the ceiling. To my alarm, I traveled along  in a whispery stream, my consciousness contained in its vapors, content and free from bodily concerns, free from worldly worry. I floated. I don't know for how long, but I recall looking down to see myself, my bodily self that is, still lying on the bed. I think I may have been centuries floating up there, but only one physical moment in earthly time. The murmurs returned. Only this time they were angry screeches. I was an unwelcome guest. I knew it. They wanted me to go, to return to my proper plane and be a good human. A crack of thunder outside the window sent my ghostly presence tumbling down in a blast like the big bang. I slammed into my physical body with a horrific jolt that shook the bed. My eyes flew open at the sound of my trumpeting heart. I was back.  Exhausted, I rolled over and succumbed to restless sleep that at least offered an avenue to practice my necessary denial. My "trip" was lovely, but "they" didn't want me. I was unwelcome among them, at least for now. It's a good thing. Because, really, what interest have I in ghosts? Copyright 2007 JO Janoski

Posted: 08:52 AM, November 11, 2007 in Short Stories