The angel of death

01 Mar 1995

I saw the Angel of Death last night. I figure its only a matter of time before I shuffle off this mortal coil, so I should explain what I saw so you’ll all understand.

It was about midnight, and I was asleep, having gone to bed early that night. I woke up for no apparent reason, and as my eyes cleared I could make out this dark shape floating about over the bed. It was about as tall as me, and it had a head, but no face. It was black and sort of blurry, and there were these wispy bits floating around it, like it was draped in yards and yards of black tulle. It just sort of hung there in the air over me, motionless, watching me.

Ah, thought I. I’m hallucinating because I’m still asleep.

So I shook my head to clear it, closed my eyes, rubbed the goop out of the corners, and opened them again.

It was still there.

This is usually the part in the movie where something awful happens to the female lead, and don’t think I wasn’t thinking that at the time. I shook Eric, but he was really asleep and other than a few mumbles refused to come awake.

So I did what I figure most people would do in a situation where you wake up and there’s a huge black ghost floating over you.

I hid under the covers, whimpered quietly, and hoped it would go away.

Some time later, when I peeked out again, it was gone. It didn’t come back.

At least it wasn’t screaming.

Posted on 01 Mar 1995 • in essays • by laura