Night Terrors

Ever since I was a kid, trying to sleep was never anything hard to get. In fact, I slept a lot more than I should have. In church, in school, and even at summer camp. Of course as a younger child I had night terrors that were the craziest things at them time but looking back on some of the one that I remember, at this age I would wake up laughing from them. One thing that I did notice is that I dreamt a lot more than most people, I consistently remembered my dreams. Often I would even remember multiple dreams when I woke up and when comparing my dreams to other kids I certainly had the most unique. Like everyone, the older I got the more mature my dream became with more story line. Personally, I enjoy the fact that my dreams were more elaborate and loved the creativity my mind put into it.
My childhood wasn’t the best and it wasn’t the worse but at a younger age I learned to bottle thoughts, emotions and experiences up because no one around honestly understood or could even just listen without throwing their two cents into the equation. So I kept everything inside. I went through a lot of changes as a child and with no support from family or friends(or lack there of) I went mentally solo for awhile. Trying to figure out the real me. Almost over night I made a change that I thought was huge at the time and it really was a turning point in my life. I realized that bath that my parents were letting me travel down was going to destroy me quicker than they could even notice the problem. Due to the fact that I had maybe one friend and a lot more people that hated me for no reason, this change definitely gave them something to attack me for. I stopped listening to rap music, I stopped trying to fit in, I gave up trying to be pretty, I gave up trying to be skinny. I realized that I will forever be a ugly, fat, loser who would never be wanted. It a terrible thing to feel when you are in 5th grade but every kid has those moments. However this caused me to regress more into myself, bottle more things inside. Then half of 7th grade, due to the shit hole place that we live in we had to move. That was one point of my childhood I can say that I had been so happy with my parents because the people we left behind I still to this day call them the scum of the earth. Moving to a new place being the hideous sea creature, clearly it wasn’t too easy to make friends. In fact make friends was the opposite of what I did. The rest of 7th grade I didn’t talk unless spoken to by teacher. At home I hardly spoke and of course my parents gave me shit for it. 8th grade I warmed up a little but still didn’t fit in. This is when I realize music will for ever be my only friend and the only thing to understand me. The darker music and even the lighter, I felt purely alone. Sure in high school I opened up and finally started to try and find myself like my parents suggested but when I tried they still gave me shit, now I think it’s mainly just because I am much different than them. Still with the little friends that I had I was still alone.
What’s the point of my saying all this? Well, I want you to understand a little about what I went through as I grew up because the next part is what I don’t understand.
It’s been years of me feeling alone and quite frankly I had just become content with it. I understood some of the reason why no one wanted to know me and befriend me and understand me. I’m just not an appealing human being. One day, things changed, well certain emotions began to surface. Two specific emotions. Anger and hatred, towards a lot more people than I think I should have. Of course ever kid has that phase too but I let it run me life and I hardly felt anything else. If I weren’t hating someone angrily I was just numb. Sure these emotions I’ve always had but out of no where they intensified. I started to gain more friends who enjoyed when I would go off and rant and rave about the scum that went to school with us. For once I felt like my whole childhood and teenage years weren’t a complete fail. Here’s where I developed a little bit of a problem.
January of Junior year I started having trouble sleeping. Soon I began to have twisted dreams where at times if I died in the dream I didn’t wake up. I weird seeing what your mind thinks will happen once you die. For me, nothing happen. No one changed, sure there were people who cried but shortly after (a matter of hours) no one cared. After weeks of this dream I started to notice that I acquired a fear. The fear of dying alone or when I could have been saved. As selfish as it sounds I wanted people to be there when I died, hell, at the time I wouldn’t mind if someone died with me. My theory was that in life I was alone then in death would come substance, something to fill my heart. Then the night terrors came.
Some folk suggest similarities in your dream could mean that there is some truth in the dream or that it is really a premonition of what is to come. If that’s the case then I have every reason to be scared. I begin having a very different dream. None like I had ever had before and it’s always too real.
I’m in the exact same position as sleeping in the dream as I am in real life. The only difference is that it is darker, which is saying something due to the fact I sleep with all lights off and my door closed. The only other late on is the hallway light that slightly peeks through the cracks of my door. No, the light that usually creeps through the cracks is blocked by something. Unfortunately that’s not what wakes me, there’s something here, in the room. This sensation I just can’t shake. I can feel it studying me as if reading my mind to see what I will do. It’s waiting for something, maybe what’s outside. I am freaking out, I can’t move, only blink and breathe. Focusing all of my mind and my soul to move I hear the doorknob turn. Panicking I try to scream, I’m forcing myself to scream. Whatever it is has its hold but I force down the barrier and whatever is inside knows I’m regaining my strength. Still the doorknob slightly turns. With one last push of will power I scream for anyone and try to move. Then, I wake up.
Now, you probably are just thinking, it’s just a dream so get over it. Trust me I would get over it a few days after having a dream like that. Here’s where I lose it, the dream happened every night for two weeks straight. I’ve never been one to take dreams seriously and I’ve always seen them as a quick escape from the reality that I hated but when my escape turned on me you can imagine how uncomfortable I felt.
To my luck the dreams went away for a few months leaving me able to rest soundly. My dreaming even returned to normal and I wasn’t as scared to go to sleep. But I’m sure you can guess. The dreams came back, but not only did they come back, they upped the dose of weird.
It started out the same way they did before. Same position as I am in real life. I feel an overwhelming sensation and I know he is watching. The door is cracked, not like I left it that night. I know he is waiting for me to struggle, he knows that I have gotten used to getting passed the paralysis. I start my usual routine of trying to much and forcing a scream. He’s enjoying it, watching me do exactly what I’ve done every time. My confidence has grown in my will power. Just when I am able to move an arm and I feel my vocal cords ready to release a strong scream I feel a hand. One hand quickly wraps around my neck stopping any sound and I crash onto the bed. Then, I wake up.
My first time coming in contact with him and I still down know who was at the door. This went only for two nights, the second night the same as the first. Then once again it stopped. A few months later I was expecting the dreams to come back but they didn’t come back. Another month passed and then two months. You would think I would be happy and not even give it a second thought but I couldn’t let it go. I knew he was going to punish me more, he wasn’t through with me. In the back of my mind I just knew there was more but I let myself enjoy the nice dreams.
By this time it was my senior year and he was just a memory along with others that I had pushed away. Every once and awhile I would tell people of my dreams when the conversation arose but I never gave it to much thought. I had hoped that not thinking of it would cause it not to pop up as often. One thing I knew from dreaming as much as I did is that what ever I see and think of the most is easier to come into my dreams.
Finally what I hoped would never happen again did in December. Much like the others, I was awakened by a sensation and I knew he was there. This time was so different because I can move a lot easier and the door is wide open. The hallway light is dull and I hear him whisper. I’m afraid to look but I need to know what my devil looks like. He keeps whispering but I can barely hear him. I heard the patter of feet and out the corner of my eye I see him. He has no form but I know if I reached out I could grab him. Just a black void ever changing and although he had no form he had shape. I just can’t explain exactly how he looks but it’s not from here. At this time I knew I was in a dream but still I was scared. I knew how to wake up but although I could move, I couldn’t scream. He never moved and like usual he just watched me and waiting. I heard more whispering from the doorway and I started to look but a black wave came over me and then, I woke up.
So finally I saw what he looks like and I would see him again for a few weeks. Still hardly telling a soul of what I dreamt at night. Each time the same but after those few weeks he stopped. He gave me another break and this time I had no clue how long I had before my next visit.
Now it is August and I graduated the school I felt trapped in for four years. Still stuck in the jail that I call “home” but some things are better. I haven’t thought much about him but I don’t think he forgot about me because he visited me last night.
I awoke in the dream exactly how I was in real life. Because of the darkness of the dream I knew he was back. The door was open and the hallway light was dimmed. I could move almost freely and I looked to see a friend lounging on the floor. She was a friend, well, more of an acquaintance. We weren’t too close but I still enjoyed her company whenever we were around each. Only it wasn’t her. She has no color, just a black silhouette. She reaches her arm out to the side of my bed and speaks but it’s not her voice. It’s very contorted like a bad radio signal. I can pick out the words “we’re… alone… we’re not…” I can’t quit understand anything else. Wait, there’s another presence here and I look past my “friend”. There’s only one of place that I can’t see due to my body position. Turning back to how I woke up, I closed my eyes trying to muster the courage to look for him. Looking to my other side and there he is. Laying next to me, watching and waiting. I’ve never screamed this hard but I let out a horror movie scream. Then, I woke up.
It’s 8:04 a.m. I haven’t slept. I don’t know if he will visit me again tonight or let me enjoy sanity for another few months. But now I see every time he will come back and he gets closer to me. He will get closer. Starting as a presence, then a whisper, someone behind a door, a black void, a choker on my neck, a friendly warning, and a stranger in my bed. My question is no longer why I he comes after me or how this started but what’s next? Will he portray a closer friend or family, or one of my heroes I blog about on tumblr? How long do I have before he completely consumes me?