Under pressure: useless part 1

“Get up.”

I heard the words, but resisted their urging and continued to sleep, albeit at a more shallow level.

“Hey. You have to get up.”

A hand touched my shoulder, the only part of my body other than my head that was outside the fluffy comforter as I slept peacefully on my back, head cocked to one side and nuzzled into the pillow.

I opened my eyes to see a man standing over me by the bed. Disoriented and abruptly terrified, still slightly asleep, I gasped. Then, staring wide-eyed at the figure, I tried to focus my eyes. The lack of glasses and light didn’t enable recognition. I didn’t consider screaming or calling out for help.

My defensive action? I gripped the covers in my fists and pulled them up so the edge rested just below my eyes.

Even when I was small, I felt safe under the covers. I went through a phase where my stuffed animals stood watch while I slept. It took me a good 5 minutes to gather my plush army and situate them so they surrounded me on both sides as I slept on my back. Then, if anything came out of my closet or out from under the bed, I would be safe. But I had no stuffed animals around me now, and would be forced to handle this situation on my own.

“Come here! Get up!” The voice insisted.

“Why?” I said meekly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You need to see something. Get up.”

“Go away.” I responded, slightly louder as I continued to wake, but still peeking out from behind my comforter.

“What?”

“You go away, and then I’ll get up.” Determined to hang on to my only protection – my fluffy blanket – I didn’t want to leave my bed for some reason. I couldn’t clear the sleep from my mind – confused, afraid, and not doing anything to help myself. I just wanted to be left alone.

He sighed and walked from the room. I felt my muscles tense further, readying for some sort of evasive maneuver now that I had been given the chance for escape. I looked around, noting the complete darkness and finding it strange. My apartment in grad school was located on the ground floor by a well-lit parking lot. Where was I?

I looked over to find my clock, the desire to know the time intense even when I felt I was in danger. It wasn’t there, so I looked up. Red numbers glowed 2:04 above my head and I abruptly realized I was home. The clock rested on the headboard of my childhood bed, not the nightstand that cuddled the side of my pillowtop mattress in my apartment.

Muscles relaxing, I realized that Brother had come to get me and was quickly alarmed that something might be wrong and I had failed to respond.

Quickly rising and shuffling hurriedly across the room, I turned on my closet light and relaxed further by dispelling the darkness. I walked across the hall to his room – both of us retaining our childhood bedrooms at that time. He was standing at the window, bent slightly so he could better peer out through the blinds.

I touched his back, quickly realizing that nothing major was wrong and wondering if he was asleep. He and Mom have a habit of being active physically while asleep mentally. It’s a source of great amusement for Dad and me, though I’ve recently heard him singing in his sleep. When confronted, he admits to dreaming about taking care of the Little One, so it’s hard to tease Dad for being so sweet.

So I’m looking out the window next to Brother, the relief that I wasn’t in danger so strong that I was growing sleepy again. I glanced over to find him intent on something, so I frowned and looked outside again, growing alarmed when I thought a threat might be coming from the dark yard behind our cozy house.

“There!” He pointed, squinting as he focused on the sky.

“What? Brother? Are you OK?”

“Do you see those lights?!” He asked, not looking away from them.

“I think so. Are you OK? You scared me.”

“What? Do you think it’s a UFO?”

Eyebrows raised, I looked again. I didn't know what it was. Nor did I particularly care.

“Go back to sleep, Brother. It’s nothing.” I shuffled back to bed, amused and sure he was mostly asleep. He did remember it the next day, and we laughed about it.

I remain disturbed that when confronted with what I thought to be a serious threat, I did nothing to protect myself. I always thought I’d do whatever necessary when presented with a given situation. Instead, I froze in fear, seeking any meager protection I could find. Next time, I promised myself. Next time, I’ll do better.