The night it all happened, I wasn’t even wearing shoes.
I surprised myself when my eyes jerked open when it was still dark in the house, for I was always known for being a heavy sleeper. But right now, I was awake and alive, and I was freezing. My toes were ice cold under the comforter, and I sat up in bed quickly and glanced at my glowing alarm clock on the shelf. It was exactly 2am. Something was not right.
With my hands I attempted to cover my arms, which were covered in scaly goosebumps. That only gave me chills, so I decided to make a run for the thermostat to see what was up. I whipped the covers off of my body and hurried to the doorway of my room. I grabbed my bathrobe and wrapped it around my shivering body, even though I knew it was useless. I tiptoed down the squeaky stairs into the hallway, making an effort to walk quickly so I wouldn’t freeze but also to not creak the wood too much as I would probably wake my parents. I squinted my eyes at the blue glow, trying to make out the temperature. It said 74 degrees, like it did every night, but that couldn’t be right. My mind felt like it was spinning and I knew I was tired, but I knew I couldn’t go back to sleep. There was something stopping me. Puzzled, I walked into the kitchen and looked out the window. There was no wind or rain; the trees were still and quiet. It was the middle of July. It had to be warmer out there. I took my chances.
Barefoot, I slipped out of the door and stepped into the dark night. Warmth immediately took over my thoughts, and sleepiness flooded my body. I wanted to lay down on the wood of the deck and fall back asleep. I imagined the scenario in my head. I would close my eyes and drown out my thoughts, and I would wake up back in my bed because it was all just a dream. The house would be warm again. I would continue with my daily life and this would all be just a dream. Just my imagination playing tricks on me, as my mother always used to tell me when I would have nightmares as a young child. All just a dream.
But it seemed too real. If this was a dream, it would be breaking all the rules, all my mind’s records. The most obvious thing was that I was in control. I never thought about dreams while I was in them. I could never choose my path. And then there was the fact that I could feel the temperature. I never felt temperature in dreams.
I walked off the deck and let the grass tickle my toes. It seemed surreal that there were no crickets chirping as I gazed at the moon. It was almost like there was something drowning out the sound of the night, and it was so peaceful that it was eerie. I looked down at my feet, and then back up at the moon. I realized immediately that it had gotten smaller. This was not my imagination playing tricks on me; the moon was at least half its size. The air around me got darker. It was too cloudy for stars, and the only light source was shrinking. Suddenly terrified, I looked back at my house, expecting a monster to pop out of the chimney. When I looked back at the moon, it had shrunk once again, now just a little white dot in the sky. I turned around and started running toward my house, envisioning turning on the lights. All of the lights. The thermostat must have been broken. I would wake up my parents and have them fix it. It would all be okay.
I tripped and fell on the first step of the deck, forgetting it was there in the almost pitch black night. I was afraid to look back at the moon. It must have been microscopic by now. My eyes were droopy as I pushed myself up with shaky hands. I was almost back on my feet when something slimy grabbed my toe. Paralyzed, I tried to escape but it was engulfing my whole right foot. I was too scared to look back. My eyes were clouding up with heavy tears, and I felt like a little kid trying to escape the poor doctor’s grip as they were about to give a flu shot. Splinters poked my sweaty hands as I held on tightly to the cracks in the deck. But holding on was useless, and my hands were shaking and my body was aching of fatigue. I was expecting my adrenaline to kick in, like it did in the movies, but apparently this wasn't like a movie. I could feel my heart pounding rapidly but I wasn't gaining energy; my eyes were only getting dropper. I finally couldn't take it anymore and let myself relax, and the next thing I knew was that this big wet blob that I refused to look at was swallowing my whole body slowly. I gasped for air as I felt the sliminess wrap around my bare neck, but I didn't try to stop it. I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes.
The last thing I remembered when I woke up was the wet feel of the jelly-like thing taking over my body. Now I was in my bed, and the morning sunlight was welcoming through the window blinds. I figured it must have all been a very intense, realistic dream, and I sighed happily, burying my face into my pillow.
I peered at my alarm clock. It was 10am already, so I decided to get up and see what my parents were doing. As I stood up and put on my bathrobe, something felt wrong. I looked around my room, and everything was normal.
The temperature was normal.
I flicked on my light. It worked.
I still had a creepy feeling from the dream, and usually by now I would be feeling silly about a nightmare and it would be nothing. But I couldn't take my mind off of it. I walked out of my room and into my parents’ bedroom, knowing they must not be downstairs yet because I couldn't smell the familiar scent of bacon cooking. It was Saturday, and that was our Saturday routine. Maybe that was what felt strange.
But my mind wouldn't accept that as a solution, and I found myself walking into their room to see them sitting on their bed looking like they had been expecting me.
“What's going on?” I said.
Neither of them answered. They both had shocked expressions on their faces and were staring down at my bare feet.
I looked down and didn't look back up for at least 5 minutes. My feet were green. Not only that, but my toes were webbed like a duck’s.
And then I remembered:
The night it all happened, I wasn't even wearing shoes.