I stopped sleeping altogether when I woke up one night to find it on top of me, parting my legs with its knee and shoving itself inside, violating me. It didn’t hurt, I could barely feel anything but the very idea that this monster, this beast, this was what it wanted? My stomach rolled and churned as it bucked away on top of me, its shadowy form writhing like a dense cloud of snakes or spiders.
You can guess what my therapist thought of this. Someone had hurt me as a child, done something unspeakable, and my mind was trying so hard to dig up this buried memory. I needed to stop fighting the healing process and let it go.
He recommended setting up a recording device — a camera, cassette tape, anything — to capture my voice. While I may not be aware of it, I could be saying things in my sleep that would lead us to the answer. A name, a place, some sort of clue. I wanted desperately to sleep again so when I got home that night, the first night since the violation that I’d even attempted sleep, I set up my laptop on the armoire and faced it towards the bed. I started up the webcam, took an Ambien, and laid down.
I’m on that laptop now. I just reviewed the footage a few minutes ago and I don’t know what to do. I guess that’s why I’m here.