Battling Phantoms

So, back during winter break I got a new game--Batman: Arkham Asylum. It's a pretty fun game, but that's not important. What is important is that in the game there is a challenge to destroy a bunch of chattering "Joker Teeth." Well, I played that game quite a bit during the break. Apparently the joker teeth stayed with me. One night, I awoke in a rather frenzied state, positive that there were joker teeth chattering everywhere on the floor around my bed. Naturally, I bolted out of my bed and ran out of the room. After a minute or two had passed, I realized that there were, indeed, no phantom dentures out to kill me. I crawled back into bed and slept through the rest of the night.

About a month and a half ago, I awoke with the overwhelming conviction that snakes were crawling on my bed and all over me. Once again, I bolted out of bed and out of the room. This time, however, my leg must have been asleep, because as I exited the room I fell all over myself. I jumped to my feet and continued my hasty retreat, only to fall again. This happened a third time. It was like I was trying to run on the sides of my feet or something. I finally managed to keep my feet long enough to make it to the kitchen where I promptly sat on my duff next to the dishwasher. I sat there until my dad came upstairs to see what all the ruckus was about. Apparently collapsing to the floor makes a little bit of noise. After I came to my senses I was able to sleep for the rest of the night. My ankle was sore for the next few days.

A couple of weeks ago, I again awoke in a panicked state. This time, I had the distinct feeling that something was attacking me, though I wasn't sure what. What was odd was that I could physically feel it hitting me. Assured that I was in mortal danger, I did what anyone would do when attacked by an invisible assailant--I bolted out of my bed and ran out of the room. Before, that would have been the end of my troubles. However, the wraith wasn't yet finished with me. I stood in horror as I felt it (whatever "it" was) strike me again and again. What scared me the most was that I couldn't see whatever it was that was hitting me. Unwilling to go down without a fight, I started throwing punches. A jab here, a haymaker there--one-two punches out the wazoo. Unfortunately, I couldn't make any of them land. To my knowledge, the wraith dodges backward every time I attacked, then struck me when I rested. After punches failed, I tried kicking it with the same result. Knowing that no attack I attempted would work, I bolted (a rather recurring theme) into the kitchen, where there was plenty of light to ward off the attacker. I hopped onto the counter and cowered for a while. Random punches are rather exhausting, so once I had worked up enough courage, I got a drink of water to quench my thirst. Throat no longer dry, I tensed myself, ran back into my room, and slammed the door to the kitchen. But the phantom was next to the other door, so I leaped over the bed and yanked the door shut. Unsure as to whether or not the attacker made it through before I shut the door, I crawled under my covers and cowered until I fell back to sleep. Needless to say, it was a rather terrifying experience.

Oh, one more thing. Francis Bacon had some cool ideas for typefaces. You should look into that.