Home Invasion
I always lie.
It's a paradox. A famous one, actually. Am I telling the truth? Have I never told a truth in my life? But then doesn't that make that statement true, meaning I cannot be telling the truth?
Nevermind paradoxes. This story is true, and if you can't take it as truth, you'd better throw out all your trust in the human race.
My mother was seated next to me on the couch, and we were trying to watch some stupid game show. I couldn't keep my eyes focused.
"Can I sleep down here tonight?" I managed through thick, fuzzy lips.
My mom shrugged, her expression unchanged in the flickering light of the tube. "Yeah, that's fine."
We endured the cackling host for a few more minutes before she stood up, zombie-style, and flicked off the TV. "Sleep well," she said as she drifted upstairs.
I pulled the couch blanket over me and fell asleep, but it was a fitful slumber, and an hour later I woke up burning up. I threw the blanket onto the floor and snapped up another three hours of sleep.
I awoke again, but this time I was trembling with cold. I fished around on the floor and found the blanket, but even when I doubled it over and curled into a ball, I was just as cold as before.
I sat up to readjust my position, hoping for a warmer spot, when I saw it.
Foggy eyes. Black lips. Thick, fleshy skin. A knife in its hand.
I screamed. I really did -- I pushed the air out of my lungs and past my voice box. But there was no sound.
Still silently screaming, I rolled off the couch and tried to run towards the stairs, but some force, like a giant magnet, drew me towards it. I scrabbled against the power, but like a quality tractor beam, it dragged me towards the person. Monster. Animal. Whatever it was.
I was spitting out the names of every deity I could think of, from Buddha down to Xenu, and then there was a blinding light. I tried to shade my eyes, but the light overcame me.
Everything went black. I lay there, in some supernatural limbo, until needles of fluorescent light danced above me, becoming streaks like shooting stars. My head hit the ground, and I jerked awake. Next to the couch. In my silent living room.
It wasn't a dream.
I always lie.
