The Open Roof

I lay in bed still and silent hoping that tonight it will come again.

For the past two months, at about this time, the roof in my bedroom opens revealing a heavenly spectrum of light that illuminates a portion of my room. During this phenomenon various amounts of playful objects float within the radius of the light as if they are bound to its beauty. I know this can't be a dream; it just feels too real. I could feel the radiant warmth of the light during the event. Tonight I will find out, just to be completely sure it's not a dream. However I'm still convinced it isn't.

The ceiling starts to part, making a perfect incision directly through the middle of the room; it's a surprise my little brother doesn't wake up. The opening in the room becomes wide enough to allow the light to seep through slowly. The brightness slowly expands in the opening in the roof letting the first set of objects fall though. I push my blanket away from me, revealing my cold legs.

The light feels much different tonight. Instead of the warmth I'm always greeted with, I am gripped by a chilling everlasting breeze of frosted air that seems to derive from the light. I slowly make my way to it until I'm inches away from the free flow of the objects. I tense my right hand to motivate me to enter the light.

I take one step forward. The light reflects on my now freezing leg as I gently take hold of a nearby object that happened to be a beach ball. But when I did, my hands slipped right through. The objects seem to be an illusion. My body is now completely within light.

I look up towards the crack in my bedroom roof. I am met with deep blue eyes staring back at me. The gaze of the omniscient eyes paralyze me as the cold slowly takes hold. The light slowly fades.

I wake up to a screaming, however this scream is familiar; it's my brother. I turn to see what's wrong, but I can't. That's when I realise I have no control over my body. No control over anything.

Over in the corner of my eyesight, just on the edge of my peripheral vision, I see the decapitated bodies of my parents.

The creature that stalked my roof revealed itself as its serpent-like body slithered right over me. It started to slowly feeds on my insides; I could see my rib cage break open as it took a chunk out of my intestinal track with its wide open mouth. It laid the insides of my body out onto my upper torso that it had not yet defiled. I was used to serve as a dining plate for this creature.

The thing had blood drenched blades instead of hands which it used to rip apart my innards; its head was just a blank scaly sphere with two deep blue eye sockets and a slit below its eyes where its mouth is. Its scaly torso blocked most of my sight, but I could still feel the cold light radiating from its demonic blue eyes.

The fact I'm not dead yet means something; why would this thing want me alive? That's when I realise it has spread my organs out like a masterpiece work of art on my chest. I was the canvas and it was the painter. In a way I was happy it didn't dispose of me like it did my mother, farther and brother. Laying there still and silent, hoping the light will never come again, at least I know it's not a dream.

I am a masterpiece of flesh and blood.