Mr. Misty-Eyed | Josh Dun

dream sequence | one

I felt a cold hand grabbed at the back of my neck. As it squeezed its fingers tighter, and the idea of unconsciousness took over, I found the feeling had started to numb my tense muscles. It felt as though my head and lungs had started to fill with water, making it harder and harder to breathe.

As if I was sitting in a chair and the legs were knocked out from under me, I gasped for air and fell backwards into the depths of own my mind. It was a place I ventured almost every night, this one no different. I was always moving through a forest, but it was too dark to see anything around me, praying that I would find my way out. Roots protruded from the ground and caused me to trip as I searched for any source of light.

I was always on the run. From what, I didn't know, but he was the predator and I was the petrified mouse scurrying around in circles. My mind was a cage and I was locked inside without a key left for me to find.

My lungs felt tight as once again they filled with the water I could never seem to choke back up. My knees hit the ground hard as I hunched my body over, pressing my forehead into the muddy floor. Was I dying? No. This wasn't me, this was someone else's struggle entirely and I could do nothing but pain through it with them.

And yet the feeling was so familiar, because I had experienced it before. Because of that experience I've grown up to be fully aware of my surroundings, almost paranoid. To this day drowning was still one of my greatest fears and my subconscious took full advantage of that fact.

My heart raced as I gulped down more of the invisible water. I shook as I wrapped my arms around myself, letting out a silent cry that I knew no one would hear. I was alone with my thoughts.

The sound of rushing water hit my ears and it felt as though my head had finally broken the water's surface. I took in a single relieving breath and hoped that the moment had passed. But just as my heart rate returned to normal, that same cold hand was back, sending shivers down my spine. And as I lifted my head to peer into the darkness that surrounded me, I was once again knocked back, gasping for air.

It was a traumatic cycle, never-ending.

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