Itch

At work, I sit in my cubicle, writing papers for my boss. I sigh, rolling my eyes at the screen. When I look up, I see him coming. I sit up straight and try to look like I’m writing the best story he’s ever read.

“Good morning to my favorite writer!” He’s too excited and awake this early in the morning.

“Good morning, sir,” I try to sound happy to be up writing stories, that aren’t my idea, at 7 A.M.

“I’m gonna need that new story on my desk by 5 O’ clock, sound good?”

I smile at him and nod. “Of course, right away.”

He finally walks away and I can hear him bothering my other coworkers about their work. I begin my story that I have to finish by the end of the day.

At that moment, I instantly got a tingling sensation on the side of my calf. I quickly reach down and scratch the spot. The feeling went away after aggressively itching for a minute or two and then I continued my work again. After writing only a couple more lines, though, I get another itch. This time it’s on the back of my arm. I reach down and start to scratch again. It’s taking longer for the itching feeling to go away. My skin starts to burn and I pull my hand away. The tips of my fingers are covered in blood. I cringe at the sight and start to feel the hot liquid run down my arm. I get up and go to the bathroom to clean myself up. Opening the first aid kit on the wall above the sink, I take the gauze and wrap the wounded area. Going back to my cubicle, I get weird looks from my coworkers and one of them grabs my hand.

“What happened?” Sabrine asked me.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just weirdly started to itch real bad and I guess I scratched it too hard.”

The look she gave me was confusing. “Well, I hope you’re okay.”

I nodded and smiled at her as I walked away. I sit back down at my desk and continue my story about mythical creatures. Half way through my next paragraph, my entire body gets this strange irritation across my skin. I try to fight the urge to itch because I know that once I start, I won’t be able to stop. My eyes begin to water and I can no longer see the words on the computer screen. I glance down at my scorching red, blood spotted arms. I have to rub my eyes and look at them even closer because I notice something moving underneath my skin. My eyes dart back and forth from arm to arm and then down to my legs. It’s happening all over my body. Panic sets in and I lift up my shirt to reveal my stomach. My skin is bubbling and there are worm like movements coming and going.

I jump up and out of my chair. I just start running. I can’t see where I am going through my tears, so I run into Sabrina on the way. “Sorry! I need to go. I don’t feel good anymore. Tell John I had to go home sick!” She was so in shock from almost getting bulldozed over that she didn’t even say anything. I get into my car and drive off. I’m speeding down the highway, swerving between cars. The pain becomes unbearable and I start to scratch myself again. My arms begin to bleed, as do my legs. I am wearing sandals, so my feet become soaked with blood. My feet continue to slip off the gas pedal. I try to brake, but my foot slips again. Not being able to stop before I slam into the truck  in front of me, I attempt to turn the wheel, but my hands are so slimy from the blood and tears that they slide off. The impact of my car rear ending the Dodge at the stop light was so intense that my seat belt snaps and I fly through the windshield. My body lands in the bed of his truck. Lying there, limbless, I can feel the stinging sensation coming back, even worse than before. My arms are broken, but that pain nowhere near compares to the desire to itch. It takes all of the power I have to force my arms and start to scratch again. This time I can feel the creatures under my skin traveling up through my neck and into my face.

My nails dig into my skin on my face until blood gushes out. I don’t stop there, though. Skin peels off in layers. I hear a lady scream in horror and I look up to see where it came from. She is leaning over the side of the truck, trying to see if I was okay. Then I see a man grab her and tell her to get back into the truck. He dials 911. They must have been the couple that I hit. Another man jumps up into the back with me and tries to help me. I must have been a horrific sight with my face and body bloodied and skin hanging off of my in chunks. Salty tears streaming down my face and burning the open wounds. I cry out for the pain and the itching to stop.

My wrists now bear the overpowering feeling. I bite at them, knowing my teeth are stronger than my nails. I can taste the hot, metallic liquid filling my mouth. Right then, the crawling under my skin and the burning itch ceases. I sigh in relief, but realize it’s too late as my eyes slowly close and I fall into a deep sleep that I know I won’t ever wake up from…

. . .

I wake up itching all over my body. I shake the feeling off and realize it was only a nightmare.

Reviews

[Deason]

In one word, intense. I love the dream genre, and this story did well to satisfy in the opening. The ending was rather abrupt, but overall a pretty creative short and suspenseful tale. Keep up the good work.

[Natasha]

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I might revise it later and try to stretch the ending so it is not so abrupt, but thank you!

[barleygirl]

This is one of the best I’ve read of your dream series. I really love this. It’s so compelling & your writing is over-the-top in a relatable way. Each time your story goes crazy with exaggerated details (so well crafted!) there’s always a solid kernel of truth & we all know that feeling of itching so bad we could tear our own skin off. In fact, this story is the exact nightmare that goes thru one’s head when having poison oak or shingles or other itchy afflictions. We try to imagine how horrible it will be if we start scratching & this is the way we try to stop ourselves from doing it. You’ve nailed this on so many levels, yet you stretch each excruciating detail to the believable limit. Great pacing, everything zips along so quickly, you feel like you’re running while reading! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Natasha]

Thank you so much! I really appreciate it! I didn't know how well this was going to play out when writing it when I actually had the dream, but it came out nicely on paper!