Beneath the Skin

Everything was dark, but it wasn’t the darkness I feared. It was a thick shadow that seemed to swallow the air and sound. I walked, though I didn’t know where to, yet I felt a pressure on my chest, as if something in the air was waiting. Ahead, there was a table. A large plate with something I couldn’t distinguish, but the sight made my stomach tighten, a weight that settled on me. The smell was dense, heavy, as if every breath was filled with something thick and hard to swallow. But I couldn’t look away.

Something inside me told me not to get closer. There was something on that table, something that had been waiting for me. As I took a step forward, the plate seemed to mock me, growing as I approached, as if it were trying to devour me, inviting me to come closer. Something deep inside me wanted to run, but my feet wouldn’t move. The air grew thicker, and I felt something touch me: soft, almost as if an invisible presence was running along my arms, making me shrink in a spasm. The hunger itched at me, but it wasn’t normal hunger—it was an emptiness I couldn’t fill with anything.

When I stood in front of the plate, I felt a pain in my chest, a tug that climbed up my throat, as if something was trying to escape, as if something inside me was about to break. The edges of the plate blurred, and the food... was no longer food. It was something else. It wouldn’t let me see what it really was, but I could feel it watching me, observing me. My mouth dried, and the desire to pull away intensified. Then I heard a voice, soft, almost a whisper, as if it came from inside my head.

“Take it...”

The cold sensation ran through my body, and before I knew it, I was standing, looking at the empty table. Everything I had felt... faded. I was alone again. Or at least, that’s what I thought.

I woke up suddenly, the cold air from the room hitting my face, but the unease still lingered inside me, as if I couldn’t shake off the feeling of the dream. My heart was racing, as if something had gotten trapped in my chest, and although I tried to take a breath, I couldn’t feel calm. The edges of the dream still floated in my mind, blurry and heavy. The empty plate, the shadows, that sense of emptiness... as if something inside me was demanding. I shivered, trying to remember exactly what had happened, but confusion enveloped me. All I knew was that something wasn’t right. Something inside me kept asking me to take. My stomach tightened just thinking about it.

Suddenly, a soft knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts. My mom. I could hear her on the other side, her voice warm, but firm.

-“Time to get up, sweetie. You need to come down for breakfast or you’ll be late for class.”

My mom couldn’t know that the only thing I wanted in that moment was to stay in bed, with the sheets over my head, without anyone asking me to do anything. Yet my body forced me to move. To class. I got up, my legs slightly trembling. Step by step, but I couldn’t shake that pressure in my chest, as if an invisible presence was pushing me forward.

As I left the room, I stopped in front of the mirror in the hallway. The figure reflected looked at me, but it wasn’t the same one I’d seen when I woke up. There was something strange about my face, as if my eyes were a little more sunken, as if my skin had a paleness I didn’t remember. I quickly turned away, unable to bear the sight for more than a few seconds.

I went downstairs, the cold wooden floor under my feet shook me lightly. The smell of toasted bread and scrambled eggs floated in the air, so warm and normal. In the distance, I saw my mom and brother at the table, chatting casually. My mom, as always, with her beautiful light smile. Breakfast seemed like everything one could wish for: crispy, golden, perfect.

I sat down without saying much, my mom looked at me with her usual expression of loving concern, but didn’t say anything. It was as if she didn’t want to disrupt the normality. The breakfast was... delicious, but something didn’t fit. Something inside me told me I shouldn’t eat, but the spoonfuls kept falling, as if my body were controlling my movements, not my mind. Each bite seemed to calm something, but at the same time, a strange sensation slowly climbed up my stomach, as if something inside me were opening.

My mom kept talking to my brother, chatting about the little things in life, about school, about the neighbor who was expecting a baby. I didn’t care much, my head was somewhere else, trying to control the chaos I felt inside. The next bite became harder, and a sense of panic started rising from my stomach, through my chest, as if something invisible were tightening inside me. I didn’t understand it, but it felt like the bite was poisoning my throat, and that sensation spread throughout my being.

Suddenly, the air seemed to thicken. I couldn’t breathe normally. It was just breakfast, but something in my body screamed that I couldn’t continue. My chest filled with weight, a weight I couldn’t swallow. A wave of nausea washed over me, as if my stomach was about to rebel against me. I felt like everything I had eaten wanted to come out, and my body began to tremble uncontrollably. Suddenly, the plate seemed too full, too heavy. I set the cutlery on the plate with a trembling hand. My mom continued talking unaware, but concern began to settle on her face when she noticed my demeanor.

-“Are you okay, sweetie?” she asked, looking at my disgusted expression. “Didn’t you like it?”

I looked down at the plate, and I couldn’t stop a chill from running down my spine. The food, which had once seemed so perfect, now tore at me. It was as if the plate were staring at me. The sensation of nausea grew, but it was more than that. It was as if my throat were closing, as if that food were slowly devouring me.

-“I... I feel very nauseous, mom. And... I’m cold,” my voice came out weak, trembling.

My mom quickly got up from the table, her face filled with worry. She touched my forehead with her palm. I felt her warmth against my skin, but it didn’t reassure me.

-“You’re a little pale...” she said, frowning. “I’ll call the school and let them know you won’t be going today. You need to rest.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t say anything. I just watched her walk down the hallway, and suddenly the silence enveloped me. The sound of her voice calling the school came distorted from the other room. “She’s sick... she’s pale and sweating... she won’t go to class today...”

I was left alone at the table, staring at the plate. My brother, oblivious to everything, was still eating, his mouth full, his face relaxed, as if nothing was wrong. But I couldn’t take my eyes off the plate. It was there, unsettling, as if everything I had eaten before was waiting for something. My heart raced in my throat. Something inside me knew I couldn’t eat any more. Something was watching me from that plate.