I try not to remember you.
o1/o1.
I was awoken by what seemed to be the sound of shuffling under my bed. The room had been drowned in the darkness, making the crescent moon peeking through my window the only source of light. The shuffling started yet again, this time a bit louder and longer than before. I just lay there, almost too afraid to move. My eyes darted to the closet door, expecting for something to happen. And like I had thought, the door slowly but surely creaked open. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I watched it gap just to a point where it was only half open, so I couldn’t see inside. I clutched the blanket I had been wrapped in, and brought it closer to my chin. A gust of wind blew outside, making me turn my head towards the window. In this time, the closet door slammed shut drawing my attention back to it. By now I breathing fast and uneven, and beads of sweat were trickling down my face.
The room was in silence again.
I was just starting to comprehend what had happened when a faint voice told me to ‘look under the bed’. Trying to brush it off, I slowly closed my eyes, and told myself I was under a lot of stress so I was seeing and hearing things.
A scream left my throat when something cold wrapped around my ankle. I immediately sat up to see it was a hand, coming from under my bed. I started to kick and scream in terror when its grip tightened and began to pull me towards its direction. I pulled back, but that didn’t help seeing as how I was still be dragged down. Tears were streaming down my face as I helplessly struggled and held onto the bed sheets.
“Stop! Let me go!” I pleaded when another hand wrapped over the first. “No! No, stop! Let me fucking go!”
At this time, everything started to fade, my vision started to blur more and more by the second. I couldn’t see the hands, but I knew they were there. I could still feel them. Becoming drowsy, I didn’t know what was going on but the fear in me had left, I was peaceful now. Slowly, I drifted into sleep. Or at least I thought.
---
“Adam. Adam, get up, darling.” A voice cooed in my ears, grasping my shoulders and firmly shaking me. I stirred, trying to remember what just happened. The thought occurred to me, and I shot up from the bed. I was drenched in my own sweat and breathing heavily. Grace, my roommate and my childhood friend, was sitting at the edge of my bed with a concern look on her face. I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out.
“Grace?” My voice cracked slightly.
“Had another nightmare?” She asked wearing a frown.
“What? Oh… no.” I lied.
“Stop lying to me. You’re not on your pills, are you?” Now she seemed angry.
“Grace, can we do this another time?” I glanced at the clock. It was 12:34 PM. “I’m gonna be late for work.”
“No, absolutely not. I can’t believe this. You have to take your pills, Adam. This isn’t a joke. You know how bad you get if you don’t take them.” I was starting to get annoyed by her nagging. “You know I don’t mean to nag,” She needs to get out of my head.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Her lower lip started to quiver, ever so slightly.
“I’m sorry, Gee. I promise I’ll take the pills from now.” I assured, wrapping her in a hug.
“Okay, good.” She smiled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m going to go now. I’ll see you tonight.” With that she got up and left the room.
I sighed, recalling the memory of when I was 7.
Flashback.
"Sweet dreams, love." Ma smiled at me then turned around and walked out the door.
"Goodnight, Ma." I whispered.
A small smile spread across my face as I thought of the party.
Tonight had been great. It was Grandma's birthday so we threw her a surprise party. She even made me dance with her. I started to giggle when she spun me around.
With that thought in my head, I closed my eyes and started counting backwards from ten. It always helped me sleep. Just as I was about to drift off to a dream, I heard my closet door creak. With my eyes instantly wide open, I turned my attention to my closet.
I watched as a person- man slowly stepped out, holding a big knife in one hand and the other holding the knob on the door. He seemed to be smiling. I closed my eyes so tight it hurt, but I wasn't going to open them. I felt a hand come over my mouth, then a sharp and terribly cold object press into my neck.
One word came to my mind. The Boogeyman.
You know, like from stories and movies. I never thought he was real but now I wasn't so sure.
I remember then opening my eyes and seeing lights. Lots of them. I looked around and saw Ma holding my hand. She was crying.
"It'll be alright." She said softly. "They took care of the bad man."
The bad man.
Him.
The Boogeyman, the monster from my closet.
My eyes grew wider and I started to cry. I was scared. He was going to get me. He was going to use that knife to hurt me. He was going to smile at me the same way he did.
"Shh, baby." Ma tried to calm me down.
I heard faint voices coming from the other direction. Jerking my head towards the voices I realized I was in the hospital.
Then came the shooting pain. In my neck. I brought my hand up to my neck and felt a rough yet soft cloth like thing.
"You'll be okay. The doctors said you're a lucky boy." She said, squeezing my hand.
End of flashback.
To bluntly put it; I have a fear. I fear monsters. In my case, the monster is the Boogeyman. He haunts me in mydreams nightmares. The nightmare was always the same, it just started to last longer. Sometimes I would have it for hours and not wake up until someone woke me up. I get nauseous when the lights would be turned off, thinking he’s still in there. Still wanting to kill me. I was put on medication and had to see a therapist regularly. All I can say is, the therapist isn’t of much help, but the medications make it easier to sleep.
I run my fingers over the scar on my neck. It's small but it's there. There to remind me that he exists. To remind me what he's done.
I watch as a tear drop lands on my sheets, leaving a pale, perfectly round, brief stain.
I was crying again.
I was shaking with anger and fear.
I was trapped in this cage he built.
A cage where shadows are the light.
A cage where monsters hide- where he hides.
Is this what he wanted?
Is he happy now?
Does he even know what he’s done?
Are you happy now?
I pick up the alcohol bottle on my bedside table and throw it. It smashes into the wall across of me. I clutch my head between my hands and slide down my bed, bringing my knees up. My chest heaves; with anger, with frustration. I was furious.
Will this ever stop?
With one glance at the closet door, my breath quickens. This is it. He’ll never go away. Always be in the dark.
My own personal Boogeyman. Nifty, huh?
Sometimes I feel he’s still there, watching me, enjoying every moment of my fear. Waiting for the right time. The time when he’ll step out of the closet and finish what he started years ago…
The room was in silence again.
I was just starting to comprehend what had happened when a faint voice told me to ‘look under the bed’. Trying to brush it off, I slowly closed my eyes, and told myself I was under a lot of stress so I was seeing and hearing things.
A scream left my throat when something cold wrapped around my ankle. I immediately sat up to see it was a hand, coming from under my bed. I started to kick and scream in terror when its grip tightened and began to pull me towards its direction. I pulled back, but that didn’t help seeing as how I was still be dragged down. Tears were streaming down my face as I helplessly struggled and held onto the bed sheets.
“Stop! Let me go!” I pleaded when another hand wrapped over the first. “No! No, stop! Let me fucking go!”
At this time, everything started to fade, my vision started to blur more and more by the second. I couldn’t see the hands, but I knew they were there. I could still feel them. Becoming drowsy, I didn’t know what was going on but the fear in me had left, I was peaceful now. Slowly, I drifted into sleep. Or at least I thought.
---
“Adam. Adam, get up, darling.” A voice cooed in my ears, grasping my shoulders and firmly shaking me. I stirred, trying to remember what just happened. The thought occurred to me, and I shot up from the bed. I was drenched in my own sweat and breathing heavily. Grace, my roommate and my childhood friend, was sitting at the edge of my bed with a concern look on her face. I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out.
“Grace?” My voice cracked slightly.
“Had another nightmare?” She asked wearing a frown.
“What? Oh… no.” I lied.
“Stop lying to me. You’re not on your pills, are you?” Now she seemed angry.
“Grace, can we do this another time?” I glanced at the clock. It was 12:34 PM. “I’m gonna be late for work.”
“No, absolutely not. I can’t believe this. You have to take your pills, Adam. This isn’t a joke. You know how bad you get if you don’t take them.” I was starting to get annoyed by her nagging. “You know I don’t mean to nag,” She needs to get out of my head.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Her lower lip started to quiver, ever so slightly.
“I’m sorry, Gee. I promise I’ll take the pills from now.” I assured, wrapping her in a hug.
“Okay, good.” She smiled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m going to go now. I’ll see you tonight.” With that she got up and left the room.
I sighed, recalling the memory of when I was 7.
Flashback.
"Sweet dreams, love." Ma smiled at me then turned around and walked out the door.
"Goodnight, Ma." I whispered.
A small smile spread across my face as I thought of the party.
Tonight had been great. It was Grandma's birthday so we threw her a surprise party. She even made me dance with her. I started to giggle when she spun me around.
With that thought in my head, I closed my eyes and started counting backwards from ten. It always helped me sleep. Just as I was about to drift off to a dream, I heard my closet door creak. With my eyes instantly wide open, I turned my attention to my closet.
I watched as a person- man slowly stepped out, holding a big knife in one hand and the other holding the knob on the door. He seemed to be smiling. I closed my eyes so tight it hurt, but I wasn't going to open them. I felt a hand come over my mouth, then a sharp and terribly cold object press into my neck.
One word came to my mind. The Boogeyman.
You know, like from stories and movies. I never thought he was real but now I wasn't so sure.
I remember then opening my eyes and seeing lights. Lots of them. I looked around and saw Ma holding my hand. She was crying.
"It'll be alright." She said softly. "They took care of the bad man."
The bad man.
Him.
The Boogeyman, the monster from my closet.
My eyes grew wider and I started to cry. I was scared. He was going to get me. He was going to use that knife to hurt me. He was going to smile at me the same way he did.
"Shh, baby." Ma tried to calm me down.
I heard faint voices coming from the other direction. Jerking my head towards the voices I realized I was in the hospital.
Then came the shooting pain. In my neck. I brought my hand up to my neck and felt a rough yet soft cloth like thing.
"You'll be okay. The doctors said you're a lucky boy." She said, squeezing my hand.
End of flashback.
To bluntly put it; I have a fear. I fear monsters. In my case, the monster is the Boogeyman. He haunts me in mydreams nightmares. The nightmare was always the same, it just started to last longer. Sometimes I would have it for hours and not wake up until someone woke me up. I get nauseous when the lights would be turned off, thinking he’s still in there. Still wanting to kill me. I was put on medication and had to see a therapist regularly. All I can say is, the therapist isn’t of much help, but the medications make it easier to sleep.
I run my fingers over the scar on my neck. It's small but it's there. There to remind me that he exists. To remind me what he's done.
I watch as a tear drop lands on my sheets, leaving a pale, perfectly round, brief stain.
I was crying again.
I was shaking with anger and fear.
I was trapped in this cage he built.
A cage where shadows are the light.
A cage where monsters hide- where he hides.
Is this what he wanted?
Is he happy now?
Does he even know what he’s done?
Are you happy now?
I pick up the alcohol bottle on my bedside table and throw it. It smashes into the wall across of me. I clutch my head between my hands and slide down my bed, bringing my knees up. My chest heaves; with anger, with frustration. I was furious.
Will this ever stop?
With one glance at the closet door, my breath quickens. This is it. He’ll never go away. Always be in the dark.
My own personal Boogeyman. Nifty, huh?
Sometimes I feel he’s still there, watching me, enjoying every moment of my fear. Waiting for the right time. The time when he’ll step out of the closet and finish what he started years ago…
♠ ♠ ♠
:/