For you, in the dark, I am seeking
Whispers in the air I hear speaking,
Leading me to you, quietly sleeping.
I don't know how it got into my room. How it got there or how it left.
And why was it there when the lights were on? Creatures of the night have no business being there, so close, when a light is shining like the day.
It slipped in between my dreaming and waking, without a sound. How did I know it was there? What made me open my eyes? A change in the air perhaps.
At first I paid it no mind. So what if it was crouched there next to my bed, a tiny thing, almost normal in its disarming slouch.
It clearly was a dream or a part of one that had managed to stumble into the waking world. If I ignored it, it would drift back to where it had come from.
I'm sure it would have, it it hadn't taken a mind to touch me.
Horror and fear I have felt before. When it touched me, this was something else.
How to describe it?
So much like a freezing, if a jump in your heart could be felt in your arm, an alienation of the limb to the extreme.
If you could be rid of what was touched, never mind it is a part of your body, you would feel far more comfortable.
And in the following days, you can't help but hold the arm away from the rest of you, a tainted thing it has become.
Was it still there when you jumped up and fled the room? Did you even bother to look to see if it remained crouched on the floor or if it was following you?
It doesn't matter. Just hide in the light and wait for the dawn.