Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24996913-20140927012134

Recently, my grandmother passed away. After visiting her doctor for a routine checkup, bragging restlessly to my mother about how her doctor praised her good health, she laid within her bed that night, closing her eyes for the very last time before she passed away in her sleep. My mother immediately linked her passing to grief. Just as my grandmother had, my grandfather passed away months prior. He also passed away while he slept.

I could only imagine how traumatic it must have been to wake from a full night's rest only to discover your spouse deceased beside you, eyes wide open as if he were staring up at the ceiling, waiting patiently for you to wake. Still, I couldn't agree with my mother's conclusion. Grandma was doing so well. She had joined a support group and even began participating in meditation. It didn't make sense for her to die so... unexpectedly...

Due to the sudden death of my grandmother, a frightening childhood tale revived within my memory. I could recall a certain story my grandparents would tell me as they tucked me into bed, seemingly to stop me from getting up in the middle of the night to ravage the sleeping home. The tale always frightened me to the core whenever they spoke of it. Though their words were not intended to bring forth fear, it surely evoked it once they left my room, turning off the lights and closing the door behind them. Once my room was engulfed within the darkness, my mind would run wild with paranoia, feasting on my sanity as I lay in bed, clutching the blankets until my knuckles whitened.

Their stories involved angels. Yes, angels. At first thought, angels may seem the furthest thing imaginable from scary. They are the representation of salvation... of tranquility and peace. However, with the telling of my grandparents story, they didn't seem so innocent.

This tale revolved around a sleeping person, be them young or old. While in a very deep sleep, lucid dreams caressing their psyches, the angels would come. It is said that angels help lead those to heaven as they sleep, gently lifting them from their dreams that are in fact reality. Most of the time, the journey is successful, but some... are bumpy. On those rare occasions of unsuccessful passage, the person who was supposed to part from the physical world awakens, continuing about their day as if the angels weren't going to try again the next night.

Because of this story, as I lay in my bed, thinking of my deceased grandparents, I cannot shake the feeling of being watched. Though I know my fear is irrational and the tale my grandparents relentlessly told was nothing but a bedtime story, my mind seems not to grasp the fact. The darkness of my room plays with my mind, creating shapes and figures that cause my heart to stop temporarily, which makes the stories that much more vivid within my head. I am completely irrational right now. I mean, it was a coincidence the story replayed within my psyche. There was absolutely no way a childhood tale could be reality.

With that in mind, I began to close my eyes, breathing out the fear within my lungs, and diving deep within my darkened eyelids. It didn't take long for me to knock out completely. Once I was in a deep sleep, dreams quickly filled my head, becoming my reality. As usual, it was a nightmare. Surely, I didn't expect a dream of lollipops and unicorns, but this dream was unlike any other. I was running, panting uncontrollably as if I were being chased. Of course, the suspect was nowhere in sight as I could only see what was ahead of me. There, a few feet forward, was a cliff. Once I slowed to a stop, looking back briefly before peering over the cliff, I saw a drop that would result in immediate death. The rocks were jagged, appearing like misshapen canine teeth, erupting from the water whenever it violently rippled upon the shore.

The air was thick, so thick I considered not breathing, as I struggled to take in even the smallest of breaths. Behind me, I could hear the footsteps of what I assume I was running from. The weight of the footsteps seemed to be quite heavy, as I could hear every movement as they approached. It didn't take long for me to peer over the edge once more, contemplating whether to stay and bear a traumatic demise or jump from the cliff, plunging myself into a quick death.

Almost instinctively, I fell from the cliff. The air whipped my body with force unlike anything imaginable. Though my heart had stopped and butterflies filled my belly, I felt secure... as if I made the right decision. Once I glanced at the closeness of the jagged rocks below, something made its presence known in my peripheral vision.

I attempted to turn my head in its direction, but the wind stopped me from doing so. Just as I had in countless other dreams, as I prepared to clash with the rocks below, I awoke from my nightmare, sweat dripping from my body profusely. Victoriously, I let out a deepened sigh, wiping away the sweat on my forehead. But, once my hand parted from my head, within the corner of my eye, I saw something. Just as I was forbidden to within my dreams, I was unable to turn towards it. 