Sensory Nightmare

Sensory Nightmare

By Josie Mitchell

Her feet were dirty. She hated when her feet were dirty. The hardened, dusty layer of mud, the bits of grime between her toes; it all made it hard for her to sleep. It was dark; she was meant to be sleeping, but she couldn’t, not unless she washed her feet. But she wasn’t allowed to get up. Her parents had gotten tired of her sneaking out of bed at night, so now they’d locked her in her room. She didn’t blame them; they wanted her to be well-rested. 

The blankets, also, were too heavy. They were making it too hard for her to move, trapping her against her lumpy bed. She preferred light, airy blankets—sheets if it was warm enough, but it was winter, and her family wanted her to be warm. Her bed was cold anyway; she would’ve insisted on fewer blankets if she knew these awful ones wouldn’t even keep the cold out. 

She must’ve fallen asleep before getting into her pajamas. The sleeves of her sweater bunched around her elbows, and her pants clung to her legs, making them feel horribly immovable. She didn’t remember why she’d gotten into bed in her day clothes. Maybe her parents had carried her, as they sometimes did, when she fell asleep in the car or on the sofa. 

Her whole body felt stiff as she tried to wriggle out from under the mound of blankets. She just wanted to pull a couple of them off the bed; they really were crushing her. The stiffness was no surprise, given how uncomfortable her bed was right now. Still, not being able to move made her terribly jittery. She tried again, but still no success. 

The panic she always got from being stuck was making it harder to breathe. Really, she could barely breathe at all. Only then did she notice the blankets were over her head too, right against her face, suffocating. It was damp; she must’ve started crying. She hadn’t meant to. Part of her hoped her parents wouldn’t hear—her crying at night upset them—but secretly, she

wished they would, that they’d come into the dark room to comfort her, to take the blankets off, to let her wash her feet. She didn’t like that they were making her stay asleep. 

When new tenants moved into the house Lila had lived in, they didn’t know the previous renters had fled the winter before, leaving their daughter behind. They had no idea the bush of gardenias flourishing so well in their garden was being nourished by the flesh of a little girl who was resting very unpeacefully.