The Psychological Effects Of Night Terrors

1235 WordsOct 16, 20165 Pages
Within a week of my birth, my parents sent me to a myopically conservative ship community to prevent exposure of liberalism to me. Unfortunately, I felt nothing but alienation due to my inability to relate with my peers, but relocation was unattainable. My deep desperation to escape my world of torture caused the onset of night-terrors. Because of the potential violent qualities of night-terrors, I decided to keep a journal to provide future references and to monitor my psychological changes. At age twelve, each community member is delegated a daily job by the ship’s captain. I never understood how the other children stayed on task so easily, for I constantly found myself entranced with the whirling clouds and soaring birds in the sky…show more content…
Time passed differently in the empty bunkers, making it impossible to anticipate the cold, numbing winter nights. In time, a mandatory work check-in forced me to leave my haven, revealing an immense change in the community’s atmosphere. Everything on the ship had been tinted grey, an ominous mist hung in the air, and every noise seemed to be muffled. Perhaps the most unsettling deviation I saw was the sky’s morphed composition. Where the abundance of beautiful life and whimsical clouds once used to be, now was flooded with grotesque cloud forms and hideous birds that screeched distorted notes from lullabies that once calmed me. The sense of impending doom presented by the sky had urged me to ask the captain if a pejorative forecast was expected. The captain asked me how detrimental weather was a concern of mine, because he claimed to see nothing but a clear sky and serene sunrays. “Quit seeking attention so avidly and carry on just like the rest of your buddies,” he spat. It was the most peculiar thing, for I did not feel so much as a twinge of sorrow after the captain spoke to me in such an overtly condescending manner. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I had been void of any emotion since the onset of winter’s frigid weather. I had become a human shell—my senses and emotions both frozen. One sole thing remained in which my energy was invested—an intense longing for a lighthouse to illuminate my face once

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