short story about fear and recovery
|I wake up screaming, I felt a bug crawling over me, I felt it crawl over my arm, flung over you for your warmth, I felt it crawl over me to you.
I scream to you to get up, there is a bug crawling over you. You wake with a start, I am screaming, you look at me squinty and confused. I have jumped out of bed. I yell to you to get out of bed, it might be in the bed. A bug. It registers with you.
We look on the bed, toss the covers, look on the floor, under the bed. We find nothing, I feel confused. Maybe it was a dream but I'm scared it was real. I think for a minute, how big was the bug? It was big, so big, too big. Too big to be real. I am sorry honey. It was too big to be real. It was too big to be real. I say it twice, once to you and again to myself and the truth of it wakes in my brain and the fear recedes. It had to be a dream.
We gather the covers back to the bed, I lay in your arms, I can't feel safe enough, I pull you closer and close my eyes.
I'm standing in my living room but it's my old house. My mom is there, standing there with me. I know the kids are upstairs but I don't see them or hear them. HE is standing at the door, trying to open it and I know he wants to let the bugs in, to chew on me and make me scream. I see there are bugs everywhere on the outside of the windows. They aren't just climbing up the windows, they are piled up to the windows, like the house is buried in them and if the door is opened, the bugs will not just crawl in but spill in.
He is standing there, calling me a bitch, trying to open the door, I have put on so many locks and he works his way through one lock at a time.
I don't know where you are, have you gone out? You would have, you would never have expected him to be there, and you wouldn't have seen the bugs outside the door, you never see the bugs, only me. I wish you were here. I have to stop him but I'm scared to move towards the door. My kids are upstairs and I know the bugs won't stop with me. My mom has disappeared, it's only me. I scream as loud as I can that I'm not afraid and I run for the door. I fully expect to be thrown, to be punched, to be kicked, to lose.
I am locking the door now and I don't see him. Not by the door, not behind me, he's gone. I lock all the locks, and I look out the window. I wait for you to come home. I know when you get home the bugs will be gone and I will let you in.