Sheets spread to one side… just out of reach, can’t be bothered.
Eyes slightly blinded by sun peering through crack in the wall, really should fix that up.
Commencing twenty minute stare off with the ceiling.
The standard weekend morning.
Yet something is not right;
back unusually stiff,
mind quite disorientated and a overwhelming sensation of hunger?
The warmth of my morning bed is all too gone.
To my shock, my entire body revolts against the simple act of stumbling out of bed, unable to lift my surprisingly heavy body.
I yell out in shear panic.
From the door a figure emerges, its skin burnt and withered.
Its eyes blaring red.
It’s fingers replaced with serrated talons.
A monster worthy of a nightmare.
Its eyes fixated on me, without a moment to spare it bellowed out a mighty shriek.
Immediately I staggered to a standing position, barley containing my balance.
I bolted for the door knocking over the creature, it yelled out a spine chilling shrill as it smashed into the ground.
My legs could hardly take the massive weight of my body, forcing me to drag myself across the floor.
I cried out in help, only to be meet by panic, my family had disappeared.
Another demon became visible from the depths of the hall way.
This one larger and fiercer.
It gazed at me, as I lay pitfall on the ground.
It held the phone in its talons.
No way to call for help, no sight of hope.
I looked for the door, clambering for an escape.
The door was found but my hands were unable to turn the knob.
In shear fear I barged through the door, surprisingly with great ease.
Only to be met with a red filled sky.
Every angle they consumed.
Hundreds of the beasts all with guns pointed at my throat.
Their shrieking never ceased.
Was it truly a nightmare or had hell broken lose during my slumber.
My mass pressed me towards the ground, unable to lift my head, I heard the monsters draw closer.
Their incisive screeching advancing upon me.
I tried to drag myself away from their laughter, over a puddle that should have held my reflection but instead showed a hideous creature.
Grotesque and putrid.
My limps resembling a charcoaled skeleton.
My head that of a cockroach.
Where I talked there were fangs,
where I stared there were deady bulbs.
My back bore a heavy armoured plate ready for battle.
I am the monster;
I am the only one to be feared.
A short story of transformation into a cockroach for English class