The bitch under the bed...
I have a real imaginary monster under my bed.
By this I mean that I know perfectly well there isn't a monster under my bed, apart from the times when I'm sure that there is. It's a girl who's all thin and long and icky. She has white grey skin and black eyes - or sometimes gaping holes where eyes should be. Sometimes she has a mouth full of shark teeth, sometimes not. She detests the daylight and will not appear in company. Sometimes she comes out from under the bed and that tends to freak me a bit. (And annoy me - I never had a monster under the bed when I was younger - why now?)
Last night I was doing drawing until two, and all of a sudden I knew she was there and that she wanted to come out from under the bed. This did not make me a happy Raven. I'm quite willing to share my room with some weird denizens which may or may not be real, but only if they behave.
Such was my level of unease that I had to dig out my Sykes-Fairbairne and actually went to bed with that in my hand. (Mm, sleeping with knives, clever.) I didn't sleep until 7am. I just lay with my eyes closed and knew that sometimes the bitch was under the bed, sometimes standing next to it and once or twice lying on it.
I would understand all this so much more if I was on drugs or something. *sigh*
Today I did some stuff which should have got rid of her; if it hasn't then I'll do an exorcism or get someone else to do one. This is my room and I claim dominion!
By this I mean that I know perfectly well there isn't a monster under my bed, apart from the times when I'm sure that there is. It's a girl who's all thin and long and icky. She has white grey skin and black eyes - or sometimes gaping holes where eyes should be. Sometimes she has a mouth full of shark teeth, sometimes not. She detests the daylight and will not appear in company. Sometimes she comes out from under the bed and that tends to freak me a bit. (And annoy me - I never had a monster under the bed when I was younger - why now?)
Last night I was doing drawing until two, and all of a sudden I knew she was there and that she wanted to come out from under the bed. This did not make me a happy Raven. I'm quite willing to share my room with some weird denizens which may or may not be real, but only if they behave.
Such was my level of unease that I had to dig out my Sykes-Fairbairne and actually went to bed with that in my hand. (Mm, sleeping with knives, clever.) I didn't sleep until 7am. I just lay with my eyes closed and knew that sometimes the bitch was under the bed, sometimes standing next to it and once or twice lying on it.
I would understand all this so much more if I was on drugs or something. *sigh*
Today I did some stuff which should have got rid of her; if it hasn't then I'll do an exorcism or get someone else to do one. This is my room and I claim dominion!