Strange Doin's In The Green Room

There's this wretched hag of a thing lurking in the corner of my darkened room. She has stringy, greasy, hair like a horse and her back and chest heave with every breath she takes. I can make out the faint congestion gurgle in her chest as she bellows sour breath into the air. She stands, arms crossed at the wrists and her hands are clenched into talons where moldy, yellowing, fingernails curl downward. She has all the normal attributes of a witch you would read about in Grimm's Fairy Tales or some other book about Halloween only she is real and things that lurk in reality are sometimes scarier than that of fiction. Her arms are bulky and have the patterns of some constricting snake. Her nose is hooked and full of warts that stink of what some French people might consider delicious cheese. I can't really make them out in the darkness but I can sense things moving, crawling, writhing through her hair and into her ears. Spiders maybe. Black widows and every so often I catch a quick movement from the corner of my eye. I assume it's bats because I can hear high frequency squeals. My room is a kids room. Toys everywhere. Clown paintings on the wall. And I'm a child laying in bed, scared stiff, covers pulled over my head and I'm clenching my eyes so tight it hurts in hopes that she won't see or hear me. I remain still and convince myself I will stay that way forever if it takes that long for her to move on. The carpet in the room is actually modern considering it's the early 80's. It's green shag. A neon-ish green and it matches the mucus that drools from this hags mouth. It feels like an eternity that I'm lying there listening for her to leave but it's really only minutes and now she makes her move. I can hear a deep, choking, wheezing, guttural, laugh well up from her guts and she steps from the dark corner with a sloppy, wet gait. I can here the fabric of her clothes pulling and stretching as she comes to me. I want to cry but am too afraid. She is over me now. I know this because I can smell a million years of briny rot. Basements and attics. Exhumed graves and the sulphur of her rotting teeth. She is smiling because I can hear her slippery tongue sliding over her gnarled teeth. I can hear leeches and ticks slithering inside of her mouth and I can smell the last child in her teeth. She reaches out for me and a million volts of magic, of sorcery, of dark, black, horrible evil jolts through my leg. Pins and needles. She almost tickles me. Scratching my skin with her nails and a billion electrical charges of midnight, lunatic, black mass chanting tingles up my spine. I'm helpless and frozen. With every fingertip touch I'm paralyzed in her spell and she is softening me up like prey. She leans in a breathes me in deep, not passionately but hungrily. She bites me but not hard and a trillion screaming, sparkles of death consume me. I turn and awaken and she's gone. My room is a child's room and the rug is still that neon-ish green. I try to move my arms but they are all pins and needles. I have slept on them.

This was a reacurring dream I had when I was between 10 and 12, written out a bit more stylized for mood and effect. I have always had a hard time sleeping. Long bouts of insomnia have come. Long nights of discovering times after midnight (when things get interesting). Driving around observing the nighttime. I've always had a hard differentiating dream from reality as well. Not such a bad thing.