The most curious sensation came over me as I read the writing that had appeared mysteriously on my hands. It felt like my skin was being pricked from the inside all over and where the pricks hit my skin it felt like cold water flowed out.
I looks down at my bare arms and felt my heart skip wildly as I watched black ink pouring from my pores. It stained my white dress and dripped onto the bed.
I looked at my palms, the only part of me that wasn't dripping ink and saw new writing etching its self across them. I read it aloud, not really understanding what I was saying, hoping that whatever was written would make the ink stop flowing.
Miraculously, it did.
The ink seeped from my body and under the sheets without leaving a single stain.
Then, just as I felt it was safe to get up, I felt something hook around my middle, hoisting me into the air, inches above my bed. When I looked to see what it was, there was nothing there.
I struggled to get down, or I tried to, but I couldn't budge a muscle. Instead I hung limp, swinging alittle.
That's when I felt a sharp pain sear my leg. It felt like someone was carving something into it with a rusty knife.
I looked down and saw to my horror that that was exactly what was happening.
A word was being carved into my leg, but I couldn't read it. I knew the language, it was English, but my mind felt fuzzy and the word looked indistinct.
The pain was immense but I couldn't scream. I just watched silently as the blood trickled down my leg. The cuts healed themselves, leaving only the blood. I found I could reach out with my hand and touch it.
Just as I did, I plummeted back onto the bed and rolled off, hitting the floor with a soft thud.
Gasping for air I lay where I fell, trying to understand what had just happened to me.
All was silent but as my breathing calmed I heard it, a soft rustling sound coming from the sheets on my bed.
I looked up with wide eyes.