Humans Aren’t Blue

I feel the darkened room. My thoughts echo its sounds.

There’s someone crawling on my ceiling.

Its two eyes taking in my figure.

I no longer feel safe in my bed; I no longer feel safe anywhere.

There’s no place without it, for it always haunts me.

The world seems to pause: no noise, vision, or smell.

What will happen? Only time will tell.

Then I can feel something crawl down, and I am unable to even frown.

Why can’t I move? Why can’t I breathe?

The four limbed being is now on top of me.

A long arm touches my paralyzed face,

Its own countenance with an apathetic expression takes away my mind.

Knowing I have lost all aspects of joy, hope, and care,

I acknowledge this isn’t fair.

Suddenly, something zaps through me.

Pain spreading like a disease through my body as it increases until I’m numb.

For I am gone, and I am done.


Do you know who took me?

I wonder too,

Since humans aren’t blue.

By Vera Rodriguez
Age 13, Our Lady of the Hamptons

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