Subcutaneous Magazine Issue 1 - Page 8

did the spiders notice? Were they drawn to my sweat? Would they react to it? If I could tense, I would have. The spiders were on me, and I couldn't move. I wasn't even sure that I could respond in any way. I felt conscious of everything around me, but I was unable to respond. The next thought that hit me was beyond my previous worries. What if I wasn't just sleeping? What if this was actually death? I would be buried, or burned, conscious until when? Would I hear the lowering of the casket and the dirt falling on top, or the flames crackling as any fluid in my body boiled out and I turned to ash? Was that what death really was? Where were you Lord? I prayed to you. I followed you. When I questioned if I had failed, I prayed for forgiveness and strength to carry on correctly. That was the way that I had been taught? Was that not the way? Was I dead? No. I couldn't be dead. I didn't believe it. And then, to answer, I felt my chest raise and lower to breathe. As I did, I wondered, why had I never prayed for this to never happen to me again? Would I pray this time for release from the episodes? Then, again, I was out of my fright induced insanity. Now, I was able to think again. I was confident that blood still traveled my veins. I was confident that I would wake, but now I felt that I was forgetting something. Tingling movement over my body reminded me. I felt hairy legged spiders wandering over me and I then came another rush of energy. I used all of it to move. Would I move again? And then I felt it. The small finger on my left hand twitched. It actually twitched! I became calm for a moment, but then, with the hundreds of spiders, I felt it. I felt the fangs enter my skin. Untitled Photographer: James Antonio/Oz Photography