text: I woke up feeling abnormally heavy, like I had bags of rocks tied to my limbs. Not like I ever wake up feeling light and happy. Waking up for me is just having to deal with the thought that I would have to deal with another day of this pitiful existence. In fake, I often woke up feeling like I was tied down. Like my blankets each weighed 100 pounds and I was imprisoned underneath them. But today was different. Instead of just feeling achy and weak, I literally felt unable to move. maybe y I was sick or something. I tried to roll over, but I found myself unable to move. Ok, this is strange. I thought. Even though I was always reluctant to, moving had never been impossible for me. But right now, it was like some invisible force was holding me to the bed. Kinky. But really, this was starting to freak me out. What if I had been kidnapped or something? Not like there was really any reason someone would want to take me, except for maybe money. Like anyone who knew me wasn;t broke. They might not be looking for money, though, The dark part of my brain said, We could have been taken my some serial killer or cannable or something, who wants to chopp us open and take out our intestines. The fact that that was a possibility was absolutely terrifying. That was the moment I relized how fucking dumb I was. There was a very simple way to figure out what the hell was going on that, for some reason, I hadn't thought of. I opened my eyes. I can see the ceiling above my bed, with the glow in the dark stars I had put up there. What can I say, even though I’m 22, I have the maturity of an autistic fourth grader. Hey, at least now I know I’m still in my own bed, because I really don’t think that a serial killer would put up stars on the ceiling. Thank god. There's one less thing to worry about. I look over at the clock on my bedside table. 7:30. Ugh. I started freaking out for the second time that morning, thinking I was late for work. Again. I tend to over sleep, as I don’t end up sleeping until three am. And I was on the verge of getting fired, as this happens very often. Like I said, I’m not nearly mature enough to be an adult. I feel like instead of an age where your expected to be able to be an actually citizen there should be some sort of test. Because there's no way I should be allowed to adult. Clearly. I can’t even stay focus on one thing at a time. Great, I thought to myself, There goes another wasted five minutes thing about useless shit. Now I’m definitely going to be late for work. But then I remember that it’s Saturday, and relief washed over me. Once again, I tried rolling over, only to find that I felt stiff and weirdly... numb.I tried to sit up, and could feel something pulling me down. Like I was stuck on my mattress. Weird. Like, super weird. At least the serial killer theory made some sense. But there was no logical explanation for this, and that was almost scarier than being tied up and carved open like a pug at the slaughterhouse. I kept pushing myself up until I get a jolt, and I was free from whatever was keeping me stuck on my bed. Ok, so that was easier than I thought, I think. I half expected to be stuck there until I starved to death. But I guess not. I just sit for a few minutes, trying to figure out what had just happened. It was the weirdest experience. One minute, I felt like I as a thousand pound, and sitting up seemed impossible. But now here I was, feeling normal. Well, almost normal. Now, instead of feeling heavy, I felt light. Like, abnormally light. Weird. I shake my head, frowning a bit. Life was two confusing to through this whole mess in. I guess i will just half to ignore it and hope for the best, Whitch was basically how I solved all of my problems: Just pretend it didn’t happen. If something weird happens because of it, just play dumb and blame it one someone else. It’s work son far, so I guess that's the best approach to this situation. I took a deep breath, looking around my room. Jesus christ Im a mess. There were clothes screw around on the hardwood floor . And by clothes I mean everything I own. I had before, but all the drives were open and had clothes hanging out of them. I have no idea why I put all my clothes on the floor. I have no life and definitely got the time to pick up a little. Nah. There was the morning sunlight painting patterns on the floor, in the same shapes as my window pains. My black cat, Shadow, was lying in one of the patches of sunlight. On her back, with her tail swishing behind her and paws swatting at the air, she looked insistent. ‘ As if’ I think, looking at the long scratches she left on my arm. I felt a lot betting then I had a few moments before. The heavy weight was long gone, replaced with this lightness that didn’t feel normal. I decided to just forget about the whole ordeal and go to the café to get a coffee. Coffee. Yeah, that's what I need. There was nothing that coffee couldn’t fix, and I definitely needed the energy boast this morning. I didn’t bother putting on different clothes, as I had passed out in jeans and a hoodie the night before anyway. I was like 50% sure that I was wearing a bra. If I was, I couldn’t feel it. But at this point I didn’t care. Swinging my legs off the bed, I got up. I was surprised when the floor didn’t feel cold against my socked feet. Normally it was very cold in the morning, because I was poor and couldn’t afford to turn the thermos up beyond 65 degrees. But today it felt pleasantly warm. I felt pleasantly warm. And light. Like, how they say you're supposed to feel after eating super healthy for a couple weeks. I felt like I was walking on air. I wonder if this is how vegans feel. I walked across my bedroom, stepping over all of my laundry. I walk into the living room. Similar to my floor, it was the perfect temperature in here, even though it should have been cold. It is usually quiet drafty, as this is a fairly old building. Plus the whole 60 degree thermostat. But I shrugged it off. I felt strangely happy, and there was no reason to ruin that by worrying over the temperature of my apartment. I walk straight out the door, not bothering with a jacket, even though it’s december. If my apartment felt this warm, it couldn’t be that cold outside. At least I hoped it wouldn’t be that cold outside. I hate the cold. I really need to move. But I don’t have the money, so I guess we’re staying in boston. My thoughts, which were usually quiet jumbled, were actually kinda calm. And yes, I know what your thinking: This is calm? And yes. This is my version of calm. Even though my calm is most people chaos, I felt nice. Calm was good. Usually the calm unversed me for one reason or enougher. But not now. Now the calm felt just that: calm. Onto the sidewalk I go, out into civilization. There were strangely few people walking around. I guess it was kinda early. I wasn’t staring at my feet for once, which was shocking. I hate people for the most part, so I tend to try my best to avoid eye contact. But I was looking around at my surroundings, taking deep breaths of the fresh, clean, winter air. I noticed that the ground was covered in a layer of fresh snow, as was the bare tree branches and hoods of cars. It looked beautiful out. And it smelt good, too. Nothing smells better than fresh snow. I started down the sidewalk, keeping my eyes on the horizon. The sun was out, and the sky was blue. The contrast of the deep blue of the sky and the white of the now was beautiful. Everything was beautiful. But of course this feeling of peace couldn’t last. Of course it couldn't I was a fool to think that it ever could have. My entire life has been a mess, and of course this peacefulness couldn;t last. I put my hand in my pocket, out of habbet. But Then I realized that my walted wasn’t there. “ Shoot” I murmur under my breath, then turn to head back. Not a big deal, right? All I had to do was mgo back home, grab my wallet, and continue on my way. Easy. WRONG! It was never that easy. One thing would lead to another and all of a sudden Im a contortionist in a traveling circus. (Don’t ask.) Anyway, it wasn’t just my wallet was missing. For even though the sidewalk was covered in snow, there were no footprints. I gasp, then stumble backward in the snow. “How in the world...” I murmur, staring at the ground. Even though I should be able to see the footprints that I would have just left behind, there was nothing. It can’t be, I thought. I started walking backwards, trying to make footprints. It didn’t work. Nevertheless, I continued doing it, staring at my feet, as if that would make a difference. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome. This comes to me, for some reason. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m going insane. That’s when I saw that I wasn’t wearing shoes. Even Though my feet were bare, I couldn’t feel the snow. In fact, I couldn’t feel anything. I just felt this pleasant numbness that I decided to overlook earlier. What the hell is happening? I thought as I continued to walk backwards and continued to fail to make footprint. This was so weird. I was passing by a shop window, and looked up at it, only to be unable to see my reflection. What? Why? Who? How? I didn’t understand this in the least bit. There was no logical explanation, nothing that I could tell myself to make this make sense. Wait. There was. Oh, god, please tell me this isn’t true. I stop walking backwards and start running forward, as fast as I could. And even though my breath should have grow heavy, my heart should be hammering, it wasn’t. I couldn’t feel the exasperation that I should have. It felt no different from walking. This should feel different from walking. It only provided more evidence behind what I was already thinking. I ran faster. It only took a minute or two for me to get back to my apartment building. I rushed up the steps, and through the door. Across the living room. Down the hallway. Into my bedroom. I ran into the room, scaring my cat, who had been peacefully sleeping on top of my discarded clothes. On the bed, I saw what I had expected, and dreaded to see. My body, lifeless and limp, on top of bloodstained sheets.