The tropical island of Puerto Rico is the place of my birth and that of my family. I haven't been there in decades, but it's not for lack of wanting. I have a beautiful family, and I need to provide for them. Between those on the island and mainland, we keep in constant communication. Despite the distance, at least we communicate, and that's not a bad thing.
The Meat Grinder
When I was young, My family and I lived returned to the island to visit family during the summer. It was hot and humid, but the breeze after the evening rain cooled everything down.
I awoke to the bizarre feeling of falling from my bed one evening. I must have had a bad dream this time because it was bad enough to make me move. I couldn't remember if I was dreaming. Was I on the floor? How did I get past the fly screens?
Warm and humid locations serve as a resort for flies. You can't sleep at night sometimes without a fly screen surrounding your bed. I learned this lesson the hard way because, apparently, the taste of youthful blood drives them into a frenzy.
I looked ahead and saw the living room, definitely on the floor. I must have tried to walk out of bed again to get water. It's why mom and dad stopped putting me in the top bunk at home. In the beginning, they didn't know I walked in my sleep.
I must have been exhausted at the time. It was hard to move, but I must have been since I was closer to the bed. I made another attempt at moving but found that I wasn't as tired as I thought. I couldn't move, but I could feel.
I could feel a thousand points of mosquito bites on my right heel. It was burning me slow and with repetition. I screamed, but no sounds came out. I called out to my parents, and no one showed up. My sister wouldn't wake up. I looked back, and horror had filled my soul at the sight before me.
It wasn't a horde of mosquitoes. It wasn't burning. Sharp teeth began to rip out the flesh of my foot. Another beast began its feast...
Introduction
Welcome everyone to another Hive journey. A bizarre world of light, life, and sensations that defined the world around me. Our first story of this article came from a nightmare I had when I was younger. Its impression upon me was so bizarre, I've never forgotten it decades later.
Today's article is part of the Proof of Brain Word of the Week (POB-WOTW) challenge. Contest six focuses on the word BIZARRE. Please review @calumam guidelines for participating in the challenge. He's upped the difficulty on this one.
Bizarre
Around the mid-1600s the french word "bizarre" meant "odd" or "fantastic". Today's meaning hasn't strayed too far from its origin. We continue to connect the word to anything greater than what we can believe. Going to a bizarre, for instance, could refer to a place construed as having oddities. In the case of my childhood, perhaps I didn't know the meaning of this word.
Dreams on a tropical island aside, my time with family was like heaven.
The Meat Rack
It was nighttime again. I was playing with my uncle's dog on the driveway. You could hear the coqui's in the air. It seemed as though their voices perforated the skies. The dog began to chase something that ran by and began to pursue. I was having so much fun that I jogged along after. I noticed that the dog cross into my uncle's farm. I followed along. And then I couldn't...
My body started rocking back and forth beyond my control. Again, I couldn't move. I felt pain, but it didn't feel like bug bights or burning. I tried to call out, but I couldn't move my lips. I tried to turn my head, but my face was stuck to something. Were my feet even on the ground? I...can't move, but I'm moving now. Someone is pulling on me.
Shrieks are in the air, but it's not the songs of the coqui. A woman is screaming. Was she chasing a dog too? No, she was chasing me, and now she was crying.
"I'm sorry I was bad and ran after the dog, Mommy," I told my mom. Well, I tried to say that to her as my uncle pushed a towel into my face. I must have been sweating a lot because the towel was wet. How odd that they have red-white towels at home.
I was rushed to the hospital while my mom held me in my arms. I felt a new pain in my life that my brain later learn was puncture wounds and tears. I stopped moving because I didn't see the barbed-wire fence that circled my uncle's farm. Part of my face tore because, in my shock and pain, I started screaming through the part of my mouth that I could move.
Yet, it didn't seem all that bothersome. Between the pain, the tears on my face, and my mother's tears, I was overwhelmed by bizarre sensations. These bizarre and alien sensations surrounded me and overshadowed the pain. And the soft sobs of my mother, telling me everything was going to be alright, lulled me away into a peaceful slumber.
She stayed with me at the hospital the whole time. She was even there to help calm me during the surgery. I woke up while the doctors were halfway through stitching my face back up, but that's a bizarre story for another time.
In Closing
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
Thank you, everyone, for joining me on this bizarre POB-WOTW contest entry. Certain times in my life are not dull and have stayed with me throughout the years. It brought me a modicum of peace, sharing this with the community.
Thank you for reading and following on throughout my Hive journey.