Don't Wake Me Up

ACHOO!!" I sneezed myself awake and immediately started to flail within the tangle of tentacles trying to strangle me to death.I open my eyes and see........darkness.

Are my eyes even open?

Hold on;I begin clawing at my neck and face and instead of slimy,wet, gelatinous octopus limbs,my fingers come into contact with cloth.

"Crap,crap,bloody stupid idiot static electricity"

I seemed to have every single blanket,sheet and sweater currently trying to smother me to death.I fight and curse,landing on the floor of my bedroom in the process.I finally break free-my torso at least-and take stock of the damage done.

My room is a warzone.

A picture perfect tornado aftermath.

The books from my bookcase are strewn across the floor,pages everywhere.All my stationary is scattered.My desk has been upended,my drawers open and empty.The contents litter every available surface.A snow globe I've had since childhood is shattered my so is my lava lamp,my makeup case and a tumbler I left on my bedside table from last night.There's juice and makeup staining my beige carpet and I just sit there,still half buried under a mountain of fabric,in complete shock.

"No way is this static electricity." At this point I can feel my eyes begin to tear up from being open so wide for so long and I'm talking to my empty room like a crazy person.I try to untangle my legs and get up.

"Oh my freaking banana".

My dark hair falls in my face(really need to get it cut)as I attempt to sort through the debri that my possessions have become.It was at that exact moment that I started to float.

Impossibly,my eyes go wider and for about two minutes there's nothing but static in my brain.

What.The.Actual.Grapefruit.

A second later and my adrenalin kicks in,or rather screams in since the sound that tears from my throat is hardly even human.I panic,thrashing wildly,which catapults me across the room,turns me upside down and of course that's when I REALLY get into it.

Im in my room- in mid air almost touching the ceiling- kicking and punching with my eyes closed,cursing a mean streak of fruit profanity.

I suffer from what my best friend Keanu (insert eye roll here.His parents are Huge fans of 'The Matrix' and 'John Wick') calls Chronic Pathological Potty Mouth.According to him I can't say two sentences without using profanity.I ofcourse deny such a malicious (and very true) claim to which he challenged me to prove him wrong by going a day without swearing.And thus the fruity expletives were born.I began to substitute curse words for fruit names and despite making me sound completely insane,it actually worked.Its been a week since the dare and I can't seem to shake the habbit.Needless to say,I get stared at alot.

"kiwi,ginger,peach,apple,strawberry,shit shit shit".

Ok so older habbits are harder to shake.

My upstairs neighbor begins to smack her floor with what sounds like a broom stick and yell at me to shut the -insert non fruity expletive here-up.I slowly calm down as my adrenalin subsides and start to think 'hey,this isn't so bad after all'.Im like a 5ft 6" slender (BONY) cloud gliding around about six feet in the air.I do a quick summersault and even my hair is gracefully fanned out around me.This is straight up surreal,Im surely still asleep.This is nothing but an all too vivid dream.

Only one way to find out.

"Fu-ig!" Fig is a fruit right? Pinching myself does it's job and I'm convinced that this is the real deal.Now a whole new panic sets in.How the cherry do I get down from here?

"Maybe I can help with that."

I look up and there's a swirling frothy grey mist taking up about four feet of my ceiling.Before I can blink,what looks like a tree bark covered marshmallow reaches down and yanks me up by the hair.