Presence Rising

Everything was dark. Silent. Oddly peaceful. She was resting, seemingly floating in an ethereal night. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear. Nothing but the feeling of nothingness.

Slowly something began to change. Nothing new appeared; just a minuscule but expanding sense of — something. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She couldn’t even be sure that it was anything more than her mind playing tricks in the dark. But the figment of her imagination continued to grow. It was moving.

And it was moving her. No longer floating, she suddenly realized that the presence — whatever it was — was drawing her in. She was without a doubt being pulled, from the inside it seemed, directly toward this entity filling up the black expanse around her. And it frightened her.

She began to struggle against it. She tried to run; but her feet were suddenly heavy as lead. She tried to pull her hands and arms free from the empending force, but they seemed to be trapped in a vise-like grip. She attempted to scream, to grunt, to even draw a full breath — all to no avail. There was no sound. There was no escape. There was only the mass enveloping her completely.

“Mommy, are you awake?” Her eyes suddenly flew open to see the form of her son standing beside her bed. “What’s the matter, baby?” “I woke up,” he said simply. She breathed a bemused sigh of relief. “Alright, come here.” She scooted over in the bed to give him room. He crawled under the covers. She wrapped her arms around him, kissed the top of his head, and settled her heart rate down so they both could get back to sleep.


Check out the Notes from the Author page for a little more about this poem.


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