It's in the Corner of My Room: Staring Contest

I've played football....I've faced some of the biggest, in my opinion, bullies in school. I've dealt with spiders, and lizards and snakes. I love horror movies, and I do quite enjoy the cheesy and cliche build up in some of the older ones. Hell, to me the new ones aren't that much better aside from graphics. Even that one movie The Conjuring had me dying laughing while my friends, of course, were so jumpy at all of the totally predictable jump scares that I ended up paying more attention to their reaction than the actual movie itself. But something I can't stand.....something that I don't enjoy at all....not even in the least....is my room at night. Oh "haha" very funny right? A twenty-one year old grown man that's afraid of the dark, hilarious right? Wrong. I....I've never told anyone about this because of my insecurities of being called a psycho or some other lunatic bullshit but it's no longer sustainable. And I fear that....something's happening to me. I don't know what else to do but to at least have this written somewhere...anywhere. As long as there's a possibility of it being found. But it's not the dark....it's not the dark at all. I've never been afraid of the dark, not even in my younger days as a child. In fact, I had always found it soothing and more of a relaxer than even my stuffed lion at the time. But now....now I wish that it WAS the dark that send so much stiff terror through my body every...single....night. Every...single...night. It..it watches. That's all it ever does. Watch. It stares through wide completely white eyes. Voids in the shape of eye sockets. I thought I was being paranoid. Maybe...maybe I was just going crazy. Maybe my mind was playing tricks and throwing me off at the late hours of the night. But no...it was ALWAYS there in it's favorite spot....hanging from the ceiling by the skins of it's toes and decaying fingernails in the corner of my room, at the farthest side across from my bed. Right....beside....the door. I cant ignore it. I've already tried and...it's just damn impossible. Every time I would turn the other way and hope that it was only my imagination, I would hear an unbearable scraping sound that almost made me think that my ears would bleed. Nails against a chalk board were like singing angels compared to the sound of that unfathomable scraping. But it took me only three of those nights...three entire nights of hearing something of that caliber of horrendous for me to realize that...that horrible sound had been coming from the ceiling---IT had been dragging it's nails across the ceiling. I tried blaring my music through the loudest headphones I could afford, which, mind you, were loud enough to cut out the sound of a train passing by. That seemed to do justice for a while.....but only...for a while. What I was attacked with next was an odor unlike any other. It smelled as if carcass after carcass had been rotting inside my room for months, no, YEARS. The stench was so overwhelming that I vomited out almost everything that I had eaten the previous day. But that thing....just continued to stare. And I could've sworn....that it's eyes had grown wider than they were before. Not only that, but that night...it was a full moon, and the light shining in through my window splashed across the walls of my room and allowed my eyes to adjust more than the previous nights. What I saw....could never be erased. Where it's mouth should have been...was a flat surface. Long strings of shadow black hair hung from what i assumed to be it's head, and through it, it's void sockets of white could still be seen, just staring. It had pale...extremely pale skin, and I could see that it wasn't hanging from the ceiling by it's hands or fingernails. But by the disgustingly dark feces that covered it's hands and the majority of that area. Something that I was positively sure, wasn't there that morning. Or any other morning...until now. My heart pounded so hard in my chest that it felt as if that were going to be the next thing that I vomited up, and truthfully, I wish that it would have. I couldn't take my eyes from the foul abomination. And it seemed that it had no intentions on redirecting its attention either. Before I knew it, days had began to pass and I....never left my room. I never slept. Every time I would try to leave the house, I became extremely ill. I began to have minor hallucinations from lack of sleep, and with each day passing it felt harder for my eyes to even blink. No matter where I went in the house to sleep, it always followed. Not only that...but I needed a haircut...for my strands of normally short hair had grown longer in such a short amount of time. The nights were spent staring at that non-blinking....inconsiderate nightmare spawn. And why didn't it have to consider what it was doing to ME!? I had never done anything to anyone! I just wanted....to be left alone in peace...so why...why did it keep bothering me! Why did it continue to torture me like this!? Why me!? Why did it never stop fucking STARING!? My eyes burned so much...my body seemed to be so full of weakness from hunger...from lack of sleep. And that foul odor had only gotten worse. I tried peeing in the opposite corner as a last resort to at least have some other odor stinging my nostrils. But to no avail. I was sick of it. Sick of that room. Sick of that putrid foul smell! The scraping....the staring! And it grew bolder. Out of all the things it had the nerve to do, it grew bolder. Each time my eyes would feel the slightest bit of relief when closing, it would do something that caused a large thud, or a loud bang. I would only look to see the door rattling. It began breaking things...pictures....my TV. Mocking me. I could feel myself slipping away from sanity, and one night.....I finally confronted it. "What....do you want from me?" I asked it, tears streaming from my unblinking, burning eyes. It gave no answer. It only stared as if I hadn't said a word. "What do you want from me?" I asked it again, now feeling something swelling in my chest as I began to anger. "What do you want from me!?" I repeated, but with more rage. "ANSWER ME DAMN IT!!" At this point, I had gotten to my feet from my huddled position leaning against the wall closest to my bed. "WHAT DO YOU WANT!!? WHY WONT YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!!?" I yelled. Fear was struck into my heart by the thing, but something else overpowered it. My hatred for it. For everything it had done to me. For everything it had made me suffer through. But then something made my flaming rage turn into cold..solid...fear. It's head moved. That was the first time I had ever seen it make any physical movement. The light of yet another full moon shined in through the room and I could see everything as clear as ever. It's body jerked and it fell from it's hanging position on the ceiling and landed on it's neck when it hit the floor, only to twist itself up into a standing position in the same instance, the sickening snapping of bones sounding off as it did so. It continued to stare, and I couldn't take my eyes off of it as it began to come towards me, taking steps that made a squishing sound thanks to the feces on it's feet. With each step forward it took, I took a step back. And soon, I found myself backed into a corner of my own urine. And it....was right in front of me. It became extremely hard to breath, and because of the little distance between me and the thing, that foul odor prevented me from taking any breaths. I watched in horror as it placed it's left hand where it's bottom lip should have been, and it's right over where the top was supposed to be, and began to tear it open, revealing thousands of razor sharp teeth. It continued to pull at it's bottom jaw down with it's right hand, while it's left hand pulled at the upper part of it's mouth. I could see right down it's throat. I couldn't scream. I couldn't move. I was petrified. A full thought couldn't even circulate through my mind. And then.....it let out a scream. A scream so terror-striking and unnervingly high-pitched that the insides of my head rattled, and I became quickly nauseated. I felt every molecule of my well-being vibrating painfully, a burning pain. And everything faded into nothingness. I thought I died. But I woke up the next morning. Everything was terrifyingly as it was before everything had started, and I was waking up in bed with only a minor headache. The odor was gone. There was no urine in the corner. But I wasn't stupid enough to think that all of that had been a dream. Because for starters, I was starving. My eyes felt heavy still, so after going back to sleep, I decided to fix myself a all I could eat breakfast and headed out to re-greet the world that had seemed lost for so long. I decided to keep the long hair because it seemed to fit me better oddly enough. I visited and had a blast with all of my friends like nothing had happened at all, but I never told them about what happened though. Everything seemed to be pretty much the same besides that anyways. But something that I've caught myself doing a lot as of lately......is staring.