Just a couple of days ago, I finished reading the book Misery by Stephen King. When I chose Misery for reading among many others, I had been in search of something compelling to delve into for two weeks already. Therefore, when this book fascinated and intrigued me from the first few pages, I was over the moon. 

I wish I had known about it earlier since it turned out to be one of the most horrifying and eerie stories I’ve ever read. Stephen King had already found a place in my heart with his other novels, such as The Dark Tower, The Dead Zone, and Confrontation. Yet I didn’t anticipate finding a book that would, in the strict sense, have me glued to the pages, forcing me to ignore all my daily tasks and responsibilities.

I wish King would write a sequel to this book, but unfortunately, there’s only one Misery. Nevertheless, it’s absolutely worth reading since I can't recall another book where an author has created a more chilling aura of suspense and drama with such mastery . Given that I’ve been reading since I was five and obviously could have found other creepy stories, I can only assume that King is one of the most talented authors in horror fiction. 

During the two weeks that it took me to read Misery, I couldn’t shake the constant feeling of tension and unease that came over me every evening. I was slightly nervous and vigilant, checking to see if the door was locked, and the faucets weren’t leaking. And I knew that this was really not like me. Only later did I truly understand that all that excessive psychological tension within me had been brought on by the book. Misery left me frightened and tense, constantly anticipating the next intense plot twist. As I turned each page, I wondered how the author was able to create more and more suspense with every chapter. 

I've always considered myself mentally stable, able to distinguish reality from fantasy and not take  horror stories seriously. Even so, it seems I was wrong since I was all agog about the characters' torture scenes and the sudden plot changes on every page of Misery. When I started reading it, I intended to finish it in a couple of days. I was ready to put it aside on a shelf as I do with lots of books I don’t like. They've been in my bookcase for ages, waiting for me to give them to friends or exchange them in book swap. But it was the complete opposite with Misery. I devoured it, savouring every page and approaching every new chapter with a certain melancholy, knowing that inevitably the book would eventually end. I knew that I wouldn't be enjoying any other book in the same way for a while yet, so I was trying to prolong my pleasure. 

Since finishing it, I’ve  given a lot of thought to the fact that I’m not a novelist, and how grateful I am that I’m not. If I had been a novelist, I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy reading in the same way I'm able to now. I would have dissected the plot into parts, fleshed out all the characters, mulled over all the relationships , and so on. That may also have been pleasurable, but I wouldn’t have experienced the same pleasure I derived from it as a humble reader. 

Misery let me dive deep into the horrific story of a talented writer and a psychotic nurse. I lived their lives as though they were mine, but was still able to observe everything from a safe distance. This story not only showed me the unbelievable horror of being a mentally ill person, who has a dangerously ramshackle, irrational mind but it also opened my eyes to the nightmarish realities of having to live with such a person.

I wouldn't go so far as to call this story a masterpiece of literature. However, it's definitely a clear demonstration of the capacity of literature to provide its reader an immersive experience. Misery is not a far-fetched horror tale for children but a full-fledged opportunity for readers to live in real horror, albeit for only 480 pages.