The impurity that haunts me when my mind is clouded.

[kuriku]

I could not sleep in my dream and was sitting up playing with my computer. There was a faceless he beside me, like a shadow, and it was he who finally convinced me to lay myself to sleep. There was loud rhythmic snoring in the background and I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Loud like my uncle's--but he couldn't be here. Where I lay, he slept in the far end of our queen sized bed, snoring, and the fake him dissipated into the darkness. I felt a hand on my right side, tickling, but it felt amiss for it was the one spot where I don't tickle much. He would've known. I grabbed the hand to stop it only to have another on emerge from my left! The angle of which was only made possible by the discovery that the hands stemmed from nothing, connected to nothing, belonged to no one. I felt the hand maneuver on my left and caught it, but at that moment they both turned on me to pin my hands down, so that I may not move. I tried to yelp, to call for help, to voice a sound--but it was as if my throat were too dry to play a single note. I began to chant om me to fuo, and I knew I was scared when religion could fill my mind. I called yobu!! yobu!! but choked again and again, hearing none but my voiceless screams echoed between the constant snoring that thundered beside me.

Then the snoring ended abruptly, and I felt a hand quickly feeling around bed for my form. I was released! He sat up and was almost awake. I was drizzled with cold sweat, but I was safe, for now.