I walked in through the garage door, keys jingling in my hand. I set down my apron, kicked off my shoes, and dropped the grocery bag on the kitchen table. I pattered about the kitchen in search of soy sauce and chopsticks. I was really looking forward to this sushi.
“How was work?” My mom asked from the couch.
“Good.” I replied, my voice monotone from exhaustion.
My mom turned back to the tv, the end of our interaction. I quickly wolfed down my grocery store sushi, and decided I was still hungry. I headed for the pantry, fumbling around in the dark cupboard for my favorite snack: tortillas.
My parents had gone upstairs, getting ready to go to sleep, by then. It was just me and the dim kitchen, illuminated by a single overhead light. I sat, eating my tortilla and scrolling through my phone.
My brother came downstairs, jokingly hurling several insults at me.
I ignored him, munching on my tortilla. He continued talking, and I continued ignoring him.
That’s when I noticed it. Or, a lack of it. A small hole had appeared in my vision, right in the center. I stared at it for a second, hoping it wasn’t what I thought it was. But it was.
Shit, not again. I thought to myself, panicking.
I shot up from my chair and stuffed my half eaten tortilla back in the plastic bag and pantry.
My brother stopped talking.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“It’s happening again.” I said, panic choking my voice.
My brother shouted upstairs for my mom. But I wasn’t going to wait around for her response. I shot through the hallway, swinging my way around the corner and flying up the stairs, weakness tearing at my legs. It was back. Oh my god, it was back. I knew it was only a matter of time, but I wasn’t prepared. I never was. By the time I made it up the stairs, more spots formed in my vision, blocking out the world. I squeezed my left eye shut, muttering “shit shit shit” under my breath over and over again. It was beginning to take over, and soon it would feel as if my body was being ripped apart.
In my panic, I hadn’t noticed my brother had followed me. He was ahead of me now, and he yet again called for my mom. We entered my parents’ room and found my mom in her bathroom, washing her face.
“It’s happening again. It’s back.” I said, my voice breaking toward the end of the sentence. It was going to take over soon, and I needed to attempt to stave it off. But i knew it was pointless. There was no stopping it, no matter what I did.
My mom immediately stopped what she was doing, realizing the gravity of the situation.
“Go chug 32 ounces of water.” She said. “They said it would help.” I nodded, heading off to my room. I chugged an entire water bottle within a matter of minutes, but I knew it was pointless. Water may lessen its impact, but it’s not going to stop it. Pretty soon, I wouldn’t be able to talk, to sleep, or to move. I would be vomiting this evil out every 15 minutes, unable to hold down anything. I would only be able to sit and watch the ceiling through the spots in my vision, a prisoner to my own body. My own body had betrayed me.
After I downed the water, I ran about my room, changing into a hoodie and shorts. If I was going to be a slave to this thing for several days, I was going to be comfortable.
“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.” I muttered under my breath. Panic and realization had really set in now. I was in for an impossibly rough 72 hours.
A small pain settled itself between my eyebrows, and I knew it would soon grow. I squeezed both my eyes shut, stumbling around my room as I quickly threw clothes in the hamper, and pulled new ones out of the dresser. Soon, my head would feel like it was trying to escape from my brain.
As I sat down on my bed, preparing myself for an impossibly long night, I heard my mother’s soft footsteps on the carpet of my room. She handed me a small tablet, and told me to swallow. I did as I was told, not questioning what it was or what it may do. Nausea began to settle in the pit of my stomach, so I curled in a ball under the covers, put my AirPods in, and listened to a Reddit no sleep story, attempting to focus on the words being said instead of the growing pain in my head and the increasing lack of vision. My mom turned off the light and said goodnight. She told me that if I needed her to come get her. But by this point, I grew so shaky I could barely walk. Whether it was from fear or the thing in my head, I didn’t know. It was probably a bit of both.
Every now and then, I felt a surge of nausea, and I prepared myself for the worst. But just as quickly as it came, it dissipated. I eventually was able to fall into a light, restless, dreamless sleep, the kind where it feels like you were awake the whole night.
I awoke a few hours later, nausea surging in my stomach again. Cold perspiration settled on my skin, sending chills through my bones. I slowly sat up, squeezing my eyes shut, and shakily made my way to my bathroom, fumbling around in the darkness. I wasn’t entirely sure what my plan was once I made it to the bathroom-whether I was going to piss or shit or vomit or all three at once.
I sat, and turned on the light, but quickly flicked it back off again. The light seared my eyes, even through my closed eyelids. I pissed, and I instantly felt better. I made my way back to my bed, and quickly fell into restless sleep once again. It had been hours now, and it still hadn’t attempted to escape my brain. Weird. This never happened, Usually by now, I was puking my guts out, paralyzed by my own pain.
Maybe they were right. Maybe the drugs had helped. But I didn’t allow myself to entertain that thought for long. I couldn’t give myself hope-just in case it didn’t matter and it came out in full force anyways.
I woke up the next morning, light pouring into my room. My head no longer hurt, and my vision was cleared. It had given up. It hadn’t gotten out. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was fine.
It has been a few days now, and I have fully recovered. It never got out. At least, not at that time. But every day I live in fear of its attempts again. I search for the spots in my vision, paranoid that at any moment, it’ll get out.