I Can Hear Myself Blink Novels & Stories

So, I stayed. Hour four was the hardest. The urge to blink became a form of torture. My eyes felt like they were filled with hot sand. I learned to "micro-blink"—closing one eye while keeping the other fixed on the glass, then switching. It was a rhythmic, exhausting dance. Every time I slipped, even for a second, I would see its fingers curl over the edge of the medicine cabinet, or see its torso lean out of the frame like a man stepping through a window.

I said. “Just blink five times. You’re always welcome,” she said. I blinked five times and awoke in my bed; it was morning. ~~ That was the memory. Of course something like that would play for me. I guess it was a message. I blinked slowly. My heavy eyelids drooped as the screen became invisible. I fell into darkness soon after. All I could hear were shuffling noises and the faint sounds of booms as they caused everything around me to shake and evoke a few screams, pants and cries.

Why am I even crying? “I can’t wait to get out of here” - I whisper to myself. I am listening to music when I feel myself drifting off to sleep. ******A few hours later******* I open my eyes and I blink a couple of times to adjust my eyes to the bright light in my room. I forgot to close the blinds. Argh. I hate it when this happens.

My heart slammed so loud I could hear it in my ears. “Ava, get it together,” I whispered to myself, blinking hard against the sudden burn in my eyes.

I can’t breathe, blink, or move. Tristan jacks his smeared cock, eyes glued to his phone. “Oh, yeah…”

why did I want to hear her voice so badly? I try in vain to move my hand in response to their voices to catch their attention, in hope they would see I could listen what they were talking. Nothing moves, nothing responds. Everything is heavy and aching: limbs, head, eyelids, nothing will move. My eyes and mouth are resolutely shut, unwilling to open, leaving me blind and mute and aching. As I surface from the fog, consciousness hovers, a seductive siren just out of reach. Sounds become voices.

Only when I blink through the tears do I realize it’s the wash basin. Bile rises to my throat, and I grip the sink until my fingers ache. Then I hear it. “Angelica~” In a sing-song voice that has haunted me almost all my life. My stomach twists. “Come here, Angelica.” No. Not here. Not now. “No!” I snap, jerking upright. “No…” I whisper this time, watching my chest rise and fall. “I’m alright,” but I don’t even sound like it. I turn on the faucet to wash my hands repeating the words, as my heartbeat begins to slow even though my mind is still racing. That's when I realize I’m the only one in here. No one came in either, so no one witnessed my breakdown.

as tears start welling up. In my mind I hear “Believe.” I close my eyes making a tear roll down my face and take in a deep breath trying to calm myself. “I am the light and the light is me.” I believe. Opening my eyes I look at the shackle. Without a shadow of doubt this thing is coming off.

It couldn’t see me… Nothing made sense anymore. I rubbed my palms on my face, trying to snap myself out of the trance. I opened my eyes and I was still there. I dropped to my knees. The forest around me blurred. My fingers dug into the dirt. “No, no, no…” My voice broke. “I’m still here. I’m still here.” A tremor ran through my hands. My skin felt cold, almost transparent. And then I heard it, not a voice this time, not words, just a hum. Soft, rhythmic, almost like breathing.

I blinked. What?