Aporia.
I'm lying on my side, half asleep. I hear a few notes played on a piano that's three feet away.
It's normal until I realize that the piano is being played by nobody. Or Something. But I can't see it.
I try to rationalize that I left the radio on and the notes are nothing more than a strange ending to a pop song. But I see the piano keys moving, right there in front of me. I panic and fold further into the bedsheets, fear pressing me to the mattress. I feel the warm comfort of my mother at my back--she's in the bed, hands clutching my shoulders. We're soothed by the embrace of our mutual terror.
Comfort doesn't distract me for long. I realize the piano again. I realize the presence in the room. My mother is gone now.
I am alone and still terrified.
It's normal until I realize that the piano is being played by nobody. Or Something. But I can't see it.
I try to rationalize that I left the radio on and the notes are nothing more than a strange ending to a pop song. But I see the piano keys moving, right there in front of me. I panic and fold further into the bedsheets, fear pressing me to the mattress. I feel the warm comfort of my mother at my back--she's in the bed, hands clutching my shoulders. We're soothed by the embrace of our mutual terror.
Comfort doesn't distract me for long. I realize the piano again. I realize the presence in the room. My mother is gone now.
I am alone and still terrified.
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