Odd thing, waking to the rustle of sheets I alone occupied. Or so I thought. The feel of the linen sliding along my bare legs slight yet demanding attention. I’m scared to admit it, but I couldn’t move. I stared at the mottled dark, shifty shadows I couldn’t make out, no candle light to help me discern more. My mouth was parted so slightly, silly I know, but I was afraid even to close my mouth would give me away.
As if I would be in less danger if I simply… stilled. The sheet continued to shift, slowly, my feet revealed to the chill, then my knees, my thighs. I began to notice oddities. The way the mattress might have been depressed to the right of me, my body angled oddly as a result. No, not might have, was. If I was not terrified before, the knowledge that someone was certainly sitting there put me catatonic.
I began to cry, silently of course. Vocal and noisy seemed so, so very dangerous at the moment. The sheet had revealed almost all. Chills from the cold air frosting along my hip line, only perturbed by the heat of my heart beating. Beating so very fast.