#sleeping

My fiancée, Robert, had gone to his best friend Lewis’ house for a night of gaming and movies. You know, Guy’s Night In. I personally imagine a lot of manly grunting and crude jokes. Anyway, at around 5 pm he kissed me and said goodbye. I spent most of the evening working on my art. Drawing commissions are a pain because usually, what inspires my client is usually one of the things that turns my creative wheels the least.

Once again I am having trouble falling asleep, I feel as if I have been awake for hours now yet it’s always 12:00am. If time won’t go forward, I have to wind it forward myself. I placed my headphones in my ears and I played my favourite song on repeat; it seems to have worked, it’s 1:00am. I must have drifted off to sleep because I woke up, although something seems out of place. My headphones are not in my ears and other things from my room are missing. I hear growling coming from my closet; I…

I know, what a generic thing to talk about in a story like this, as stories about creepy dolls were shared around to death, but hey, surely someone on here will be interested in what I am talking about as I have something similar to share.

Feedback "This, too, shall pass." — Persian Proverb . . I woke up lying on the cold floor, my cheek pressed against splinters. No wind. No storm. No voices. Just quiet. Dry, suffocating quiet. Dust drifted in the shafts of pale light like falling ash. My mouth tasted like old rust. I stood slowly, my footfalls creaked loud in the emptiness, and wandered into the bedroom. There, resting on the bed, was my notebook.

I can hear them when it's quiet. They hide in the vents. They laugh at me. I don't know why. Maybe it's because they know they've got me. I can't do anything to stop them. There's no one I can tell, everyone would think I'm insane. Now I just have to wait. They'll come to collect me when they're ready. Not on my time, god no. They won't come for me until long after my mind has completely unhinged.

I used to love Lucid dreams but I could only seem to realise I'm dreaming when it's a particularly scary dream, I can always fly away from the threat. That's how I know I'm dreaming, I can then stay and control the narrative. Now I just force myself to wake up. It started with rules. I'm not sure how I know about them, how they were made up or who by.

I remember I would wake up screaming and nearly drown myself in cold sweat. I'd try to turn on a light or get a drink of water, but I couldn't even move. It was only a matter of seconds until my eyes would turn into old sepia camera filters, and "they" would appear. You probably wonder what I mean when I say that. I mean, the figures that defined my childhood, and have stood the test of time. They appeared by my door like always, leaning slowly, stabbing me with those blank, obscured eyes. My…

You awoke in a cold sweat from your dream, looking around the dim room with a fright. You didn’t remember anything that happened in it except for a loud BANG! at the end, but you passed it off as just a nightmare. It had been a recurring nightmare you’ve had for the past few days now. You slowly arose from your bed, preparing your lunch for the day before heading off to work, stopping at a local store to pick up a little something along the way.

I lived in an old cabin in the middle of the forest, a place far from people and noise, which was exactly what I longed for. I didn't like being among people or hearing loud voices, so I only went to town to buy food and a few supplies, then I'd return straight to my quiet cabin. Solitude comforted me, and I found everything I needed in the embrace of nature.

When I woke up in the morning, I knew something was off. Pretty soon I realized that I was missing a tooth. Upper set, one of the front ones. I'm not a particularly vain person, but losing a tooth upset me a lot. My anxiety flared and my mind exploded with reasons why my tooth could've fallen out. Was it because I only brushed my teeth once a day on the weekends? Or was it something with my gums? I went through the day with my upper lip curled over my teeth and my mind filled with every…

Have you ever experienced the typical thunderstorm as your head lay sleepily upon your pillow as a kid? I believe we all have many a time. Were you scared? I’m sure a good portion of you were. Of what though? The gusting winds? The hammering thunder? The epileptic lightning flashes that seep through your windows blinding you as fear seeps into your mind from the unknown frenzy outside? Or maybe its...the tree branches. Rapping against your windows. Watching the dark cast its aura transforming…

I was seven when I moved into that house at Ashbrooke Lane. At least that’s what my parents tell me. My recollection of that time is vague. I have memories of the big tree on our lawn, running round the garden with the boy next door, and I remember sitting on the living room floor playing with my He-Man figures. But my most vivid memories are of the recurring nightmares.

Finally, I’m home. After working a late night, I finally finished a project that my boss pushed on me. It was all worth it though, because I had a great day ahead of me. The part I was most excited for though, was seeing my son. I finally won the custody battle against my ex-wife, so now I actually get to see him. I fixed up my old spare bedroom for him, although it looked bland in all white. I figured we would have some spare time later and we could make any changes he wanted. I lumbered up…

I find myself staring at the brick wall in front of me again. After another heavy night of drinking I find it abnormal to regain consciousness in the same place several days in a row. I'm outside of the abandoned hospital downtown. An eerie place to find yourself on a foggy morning. It seems no one is around, though you can hear the sounds of the city already busy. I light up a cigarette and proceed to check my phone. It's 7 a.m.

12/02/11

It’s not often that I tell this story, and I don’t much like telling it either, but it seems to get a little easier every time I do. The memories that I have of that night don’t even seem real to me. To this day I can’t wrap my head around how such a thing could have happened to me. I never saw it coming. I mean, how could I be in one place, then suddenly be in another? It happened faster than a lighting strike and it happened faster than a finger snap.

My bleary eyes struggled to open. Jesus. How long had I been sleeping for? I felt like i’d just awoken from a month long coma. God, my head hurt. The dull pounding in my temples was as rhythmic as the ticking clock on the wall. I couldn’t remember falling asleep, or what time it was, or even what day it was. The one thing I was sure of was how awful I was feeling and how much my parched throat ached for a drink. There was a bottle of water next to the sofa I had fallen asleep on. I took a sip…

I was walking down an abandoned, dirt road in the middle of a small town that I did not recognise. I was alone; literally, there was no one in sight. I looked at the house I was walking by, the only house on the street. It was old and the dark grey paint was faded into more of an off white colour. The windows were covered in dust and chipped at the edges, behind them were some ripped, faded yellow curtains hanging. Only one of the windows was missing a curtain, the top left window to be exact.…

I awoke to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I opened bleary eyes to see it was still very dark outside. What time was it? After about 5 or 6 rings, the caller gave up. I was tired, but sleep would not come again. Annoyed, I decided I might as well see who it was that was bothering people at this time of night. The number was not one I recognized. I sent a simple text message asking “Who are you?”

James Nichols was a detective in mid-New Jersey. He lived with his wife and two kids, and was a happy man, aside from his insomnia and occasional sleepwalking. Just part of the job, he guessed. He had heard stories things like PTSD from certain cases, generally the more traumatic ones, obviously. With all these tales of people that had had their psyches ruined for life, he was thankful and guessed he got off easy. One night as he was going to sleep, he went and took the new prescription sleep…