Day 147: Break the Silence

Record yourself speaking, then write down what you spoke and revise into a short story or poem.

When my then-boyfriend moved to Connecticut to work for ESPN, I went through a brief period of night terrors. Never talked to anyone about because it only happened a handful of times and ended after he moved back. I wasn't used to sleeping myself anymore so my subconscious kept creating enemies for me to combat while I slept. It wasn't a fun period in my life but I read somewhere that if you recorded yourself  during a night terror episode, you'd be able to hear exactly what's bothering your subconscious. Essentially your brain telling on itself. A week or so ago, I found some of my old recordings and listened to them. I made a poem to reflect some of the stuff I said.

"HE'S SOMEWHERE IN THE HOUSE," she screamed, eyes wide.
They watched her writhe like a retreating shadow but did nothing.
They could only observe.
"Move, move, you have to move now, you have to go now, what are you doing you have to-"
She cut off her own fervent whispers with a bloodcurdling scream. 
A scream that last for two to three minutes.
And still they watched.
The scream petered out into a sad moan.
"I can't," she said, hoarsely. 
She clawed at her throat repeatedly, leaving red lines across her neck.
One of the observers shifted, uncomfortably but still said nothing.

Two days later, the screams began again.
Unintelligible. Mostly.
The only repeated word was, "Get out."