"You could not step twice into the same rivers; for other waters are ever flowing over you." -Heraclitus

You could call it strange, that I lived normally like this, and, yes, it was. But, I like to think of it as that nervous tick you grew up with: biting your nails, or chewing on your hair. You know it's wrong, but you've become so accustomed, it just doesn't register as something that is, in all senses, bad for you.

I know, that behind it all, in the back on my mind, there was an inching feeling of terror. A fleeting moment here and there where it would wash over me and I had to grab hold of something or I'd crumble under the weight.

In my dreams, it came on the strongest, where Mara would be perched upon my chest, gazing down on me.  Somehow, even in the darkest of nights, his eyes would glimmer through the curtains of black, making himself known.

Even with the crippling horror I had suppressed in my mind, my curiosity would peak every so often, wondering on how I could make that moment from my teenage years happen again, to make Mara real. Even when I didn't feel the urge to, he would hint at it from time to time.

"Come on, aren't you interested in finding out?" He'd purr, pulling me into his little game.

Do you know how hard it is to search for "How to make intangible things real," and not just end looking at a result page about a book by some Wendy Wunder?

Search results always came up null and void, always pushing us towards more 'paranormal' means, which I'll leave for interpretation.

And one day... that all the changed.

There was no more aggravated results from forums, there was no more 'hocus pocus you're real', there was no more late night internet searches on how to calm your invisible friend.

There was a threat, and the threat was different, intolerable, and something despicable.

Something mature, something childish, something adorable and disgusting. That something was strong, but yet so weak.

One day, the nightmare wasn't a nightmare anymore. One night, the terror was real.

Gasping as I fight for air, trying helplessly to flail my arms to fight off the shadowed creature, even though my arms and legs felt like lead. Something was on my chest, something was glowering down at me, and I could feel the huge menacing smile it adorned. I felt my head get hazy as my lungs begged for more than little puffs of insufficient oxygen. I had only briefly closed my eyes to regain myself.

Then, the sun blared through the window.

I clenched my eyes shut, covering them with my forearm, trying to block out the assault on my eyes, and my mind.

A light breath came from next to me, forcing a cool wave of adrenaline to pulse through me.

I jolted up, looking at the strangely familiar body, thankfully covered by the comforter, for the half that stuck out was bare. I barely caught myself before I had reached out and brushed some of the hair from his face. I don't know whether if it was to find out who it was, or to reconfirm it was living.

Of course I knew who it was. With the slight movements of his chest and the flushed cheeks, his naked upper body and still cyanosised lips, likely to contain cyanide themselves... God, I knew he was alive.