And there I was...

I was lying in my bed playing guitar. Looking at her photo. She was wearing all black, and the photo captured her in mid laugh. It was kind of silly, but beautiful, just like her. I had been trying to translate my emotions into notes, but having a hard time stringing together something that could adequately express feelings I myself had yet to decipher. The light in my room was bright, but the feeling was growing to be very dark. Darker than even I expected, considering my current mood. The air smelled sweet, like cherries and ceder, from the incense I burned earlier. Still lingering around, like the feelings I was having for this girl. Feelings brought on by a series of unfortuante events.

The night before, I'd dreamt of her. It had been a while since I'd done that. Everything that involves her is always so intense, and this dream was no exception. A couple of days after the dream, we had a conversation that lead to a comment that sent my emotions into a spiral. This was familiar, but unwelcomed. I was over getting over her. Over this "girl" who's name I can't even say, the same girl I've never had, the same girl who's in love with yet another temporary "Him".

It was so strange to be caught so off guard, and brought back to emotions I'd thought I had under control. Even though I'm painfully aware that those feelings are never too far out of reach, it was still unexpected and unsettling. I wanted nothing more than to escape this source of endless pain that had a direct line to my heart.

So I grabbed my guitar, trying to get these emotions out of my body, and under control. Halfway through another inadequate chord progression, something in the air shifted. This moment was when the mood around me darkened. The feeling was similar to walking through a cemetery at night. Logic tells you there is nothing there, but it still feels creepy, and suspiciously dangerous. It was a very distracting feeling. I was gently nudged back to the moment by a sudden chill in the air that sent an intense charge down my spine and out my fingers. I thought to just ignore the feeling, letting the adult in me use logic to soothe. I shifted my attention back to my guitar. Strumming random notes, still slightly distracted, I get the intense feeling that there was something, or someone behind me. By this point, the child in me had taken over, completely unreasonable, and entertaining flighty ideas of paranoia.

I tried to calm my breathing, but was unsuccessful as the feeling, was getting stronger. It was overwhelming, and startling. Invasive even, and I didn't understand where it was coming from. All I could think to do, the only thing the child in me was insisting on, was to not move and just listened. The adult wasn't sure what I was listening for, but I remembered doing this same thing when I was much younger, and feeling afraid after hearing an unexpected noise, or seeing a scary movie. I think that as a child, part of me believed that if I didn't move, then whatever was there couldn't see me, and another part of me believed that if I didn't move, I would somehow have the upper hand on whatever was "coming to get me". Perhaps a noise that would prove to be the source of the overwhelming darkness that was now invading my personal space.

From my bed, all I could see in the room was my bookshelf, the wall, and my door. Child logic told me to just head for the door, and Adult logic interjected the thought that I should not to run, because that would be silly. My heartbeat disagreed, with my Adult mind, but the fear paralyzed me. I sat there, confused, and shaken. I was trapped in a fantasy world, where my imaginations intensity jumped back 20 years to the days where my mind was filled with wild colors, often pleasant images, only this was anything but pleasant. Painfully unaware of anything other than the thoughts racing through my mind, I scrolled through all the images of things that just could not be.

Monsters? Ghosts? Bogymen? What was there?

Okay, snap out of it I tried to tell myself unsuccessfully. Just then, I heard a noise just outside my door. I was afraid of what might happen next. My mind still racing, and my body still frozen I sat there fearing what was to come. The adult in me telling me to calm down, but my instincts on edge. My door knob twisted, and the door opened. My mind was now racing! My heartbeat was so strong that my shirt was pulsing with every beat. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see.

The door swung open, and There I Was. Baffled, and in a state of disbelief, the feelings of terror returned. I didn't understand how this was possible. I felt my face get flush, and my eyes start to water. Overwhelmed and in a state of shock, tears start to run down my face. For some reason, I was internally dreading the inevitable moment where I would make eye contact with myself. I see myself slowly look up from what looked like a small piece of paper and our eyes meet.

I look as startled to see myself sitting on my bed, as I feel seeing myself walk into my room. All of a sudden, the me that just walked in starts to scream. I see myself screaming, and shaking and running back out the door. I can hear myself yelling, "what the fuck, what the fuck... " My voice fades out in the distance, and I'm very unsure of the reality of what just happened. I wonder if I'm in the middle of an intensely real dream. Again, I again start to entertain all sorts of ideas, influenced by the books I've read, movies I've seen, stories I've heard, etc., and ust as I'm excluding the possibility of time travel, seeing as how one of us would have known what was going on, my Dad walks in, smiling, looking as though he was expecting to see something else, anything other than his daughter who was standing behind him in the hallway. He looked startled when his eyes met my face. He looked back at Me standing behind him, and again at Me sitting on my bed.

I looked at him, and spoke, my voice shaky, I asked "Did you see, me?" He didn't answer, instead just stared at me in disbelief. I cleared my throat and repeated the question.

He slowly nodded his head. I'm not sure what provoked my next reaction to the situation, perhaps the fear, but for some reason I yelled at him with a tone that felt impatient. The volume of my own voice made me jump as I yelled "what is going on?!" as thought I'd asked him and he was refusing to answer me.

It startled all 3 of us, then I heard myself from the hallway, whisper to my father, "Tell it to stop talking please!"

I could tell Me, and myself were feeling the same about the situation, afraid, confused, wanting nothing more than to deny what we had seen. I heard myself ask my father is I was dead. I had already entertained that idea myself. Wouldn't I have remembered dying though? We both waited for my father to answer, to say something assuring, but all he did was stare blankly at me. There was the slightest hint of curiosity in his eyes, but more than anything, he looked, distant. He didn't respond. He didn't blink. He didn't even seem to be breathing.

I put my head in my hands, shaking my head, not sure where to go, or what to do. I was surprised to feel the wetness from my cheeks in my hand. With everything that was going on, I'd forgotten that I had been crying. When I lifted my head again, expecting to see my father still blankly staring at me, I was surprised to see...