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The First Time Hurts the Most

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Lying in bed, the dark, the cold. I don't know if they're coming for me yet. I hear them breathing, but I convince myself it's the wind. Their harsh breath beating against my floor sounds like the wind tearing at the exterior of my home. It's cruel how similar they sound.

They move.

I can't see them because of the darkness of the shadows, but I've become aware and paranoid now. They know that my heart is beating faster, and that's exactly what they want. They scurry about, making light scratching noises as they move in. I reach for my lamp to turn it on and panic as the darkness remains.

They're coming for me.

I try to find the cord to my lamp; it's unplugged! I rummage around my bed for my flashlight. They're laughing at me now. They've gotten louder. They're close, closer than I could've ever guessed. I end up kicking something hard in my blanket and I feel my heart stop. It doesn't budge, and I realize exactly what I've found.

It's the flashlight!

The joy is short-lived. It's breathing down my neck now. I whip around and turn on the light just to see a disfigured face, wet and glistening. Its yellow teeth are curled into an evil, wicked smile.

I open my mouth to scream, but it shoves its claws into my chest with such force that I cannot utter a sound. I whimper in pain, but not loud enough for anyone to hear. The creature is prying me open.

"The first time hurts the most," it whispers quietly as it crawls inside me.

The wounds are gone, they heal before my eyes and leave no scars, and no one believes my story. I know they're there though. They're living inside me this very moment, and they're going to keep coming.

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