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You can't sleep
Sinking into the softness of the pillow around your head, the big blanket warming the folds and tips of your toes, the light cold night wind gently blowing the messy locks of your hair, the moonlight scattering the faint shadows present in the room and illuminating your cheeks, hands with a strong grip on the blanket and all the cotton friends.
You still can't sleep.
Staring at the ceiling for coziness makes yawning more frequent, accompanied by a few tears coming down and wetting your face a little, only to find the little sets of toy stars stuck to a new sky around your bed every day, there being nothing left to find here. No matter how many times you try to find something besides the stars on the ceiling, try once more to go as deep as possible into the pillows, hold your friends even closer, cover yourself more in the comfortable blanket, and stay in the darkness with your eyes closed.
You still can't sleep, because it's not enough - you don't feel safe.
Your whole family is getting desperate to get you to sleep, if only for a few hours, because it's been a few weeks since the sad blankets on the bed welcomed you into the good dream world, and they've tried everything to see you taking a nap.
The first attempt was to buy a new blanket adorned with little and big stars, much softer and bigger than the old sheet, you like to use it to build your own Pirate Cove (or a tent, as the adults say). The second attempt was to manage to find all your cotton friends, they all are here, from Freddy; Chica; Bonnie; Pirate Fox; Mont; Roxy; DJ Music Man; Yellow Freddy; Sun and Moon; (and Mr.Hippo?), you are never alone with them around. The third attempt was to change the old torn pillow for a bigger and harder one, a good support for drawing with the notebook on top. The fourth attempt was to drag the bed to the other side of the room, leaving it next to the window, so that every day you could wake up bathed in the rays of light and the sun wishing you a good day, and sleep looking at the sweet cotton clouds and the round moon in the starry sky wishing you a good night. The fifth attempt is on the ceiling now, the new starry sky built by toys, glue and glitter, you don't understand why the sky covers your bed, but you find the stars cute.
Yet even after all attempts, you simply cannot sleep, for you don't hear them, for you don't find them.
You don't hear the bells.
Your ears don't find the bells, the small, soft sounds of which almost sound invisible to those who don't know you. The ringing of the bells that light up your heart, a warm bubble of soap, a soothing music with the rhythms in which it welcomes you and calls to you, a gentle welcome.
They are not like all the other bells, like the bells in toy stores or bells on Christmas hats, or even the bells on bicycles when they ride, no no no, these bells are high-pitched, loud and passing, not just any bells.
They are their bells.
There is only one place in the whole world in which the world of dreams is seen and it is on a road across town, a huge and magnificent shopping mall called "Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex". Much bigger than any other place has visited, music, arcades and colorful floors shine brightly, where the aisles seem to have no limits, the food is greasy and delicious, all the family's money disappears and there is nothing not to do, not to mention the best place of all. When the big metal gates lift and the aisles sing the sticky sounds of chickens and honk, the glittering Superstar Daycare is finally open. Eyes glisten at the mere thought of going there. Only there did the false star lights, useless to illuminate the place, not seem so artificial. Only there could you run all around without being afraid of falling and hurting your nose. Only there are warm hands that will grab you and jump into the ball pool with you. Only there, no matter how loud it gets, doesn't bother anyone. Only there are the sounds of the bells.
Listening to the sweet beats of the bells makes all the weight of your body drain away and disappear under your feet, like the water in the shower when you have just finished a bath and you feel clean. Any traces of anxiety disappear over the fluffy cloud that covers and tucks in your thoughts. There is no longer any reason to be afraid, because nothing bad will happen. That is the rhythm of trust. Sounds that they are here.
You can only sleep at the ringing of the bells, inside the daycare, together with them, even if almost every day is just darkness invading the dream world or constant nightmares disturbing you, you can no longer count them.
On the days when your socks hit the slide, your body sinks into the ball pool, and your arms fly up and up for air, Sun in the blink of an eye jumps from wherever he is to rescue you, wrapping his warm arms around you in a tight, warm hug, then holding your cheeks, running his fingers under your eyes, telling you how worried he is about how much he hasn't slept in days. It's funny to see he gathering all possible pillows and stuffed animals in his arms to form a small, comfortable bed, taking him off his lap and wrapping him in the covers when your eyes get too heavy and it becomes impossible to fight sleep, although the nap lasts only a few minutes before one of your colleagues unwillingly runs and trips over you, which causes sleep to immediately disappear, a pain in the belly to form, and an anxiously desperate Sun.
When the lights of the lamps slowly start to give him the sweet touch of farewell, the stars in the sky gaining soft blooming colors from the crayons, the darkness slowly swallowing all the gaps of the toys until it covers eyes, the once warm air becomes freezing cold that invades the gaps of the thick overalls and the music falling from wherever it was playing, this is the time your little world shrinks and the shadows reveal the strong presence that had always been there, just watching over him with the penetrating red and purple flashes in the deep eyes, the only lights visible in the darkness now, this is from his best friends, this is Moon.
No matter how hard you struggle, futilely pushing as hard as your little hands can into the strong metal shoulders, no matter how hard you insist on continuing to stack the brick tower to the skies of daycare, no matter how fast you run as your feet can go until they can't take it anymore, Moon will always wrap his arms around you, gently wrapping it around his chest and the curves of his shoulders, gripping your overalls tightly to make sure you don't fall off his lap, his dark fingertips lightly running through the strands of your hair and across your scalp, making all the tiredness and sleep of countless days weigh uncontrollably over your eyes. The cold metal enveloping you goes beyond the layers of skin on your cheeks and fingertips, sometimes making your body shiver, at the same time warming your chest deeply like a warm and radiant little ball of blankets, just like 10 -- no no no -- 100 fluffy blankets covering you, just like a little sun living inside your heart, just like when you eat your favorite food, just like sleeping with the sounds of raindrops hitting the yard, just like being here.
Bright red is the only thing possible to see in the darkness, red that illuminates the weights of the eyes about to close, light with tiny specks of dust flying from side to side, brightness that makes the air in your lungs quiver, blood light telling you "you are not alone," starlight. You don't want to leave here ever again.
- "Nighty-night, angel"
Slowly the vision becomes blurred as the fight against the weights of the eyes just gets too much, gazing quietly into the cozy purplish-red light, gently feeling the touches of heavy fingers gliding lightly to the end of the soft strands and stroking between the locks of hair calmly, faintly listening to the song of the bells on the tip of your ear. Your worlds are now a warm little bubble, no longer to be resisted, for in dreams you fly along with balloons.
They are here, you hear the bells.
...
You don't know how long it's been before the bells stop ringing and dreams start saying "goodbye". Slowly raising your eyes and waking up over the puddle of drool dripping from your mouth on the rough, hard back seats of the car, just being tucked in by the hood of your overalls, sure isn't the best way to say goodbye to them. As you try to wipe away the drool, your wrists immediately feel the firm grip covering them, it was a little too heavy, as you slowly drag wrists into your vision you notice there is the softness of a sliding ribbon, you see the red of knots in the shadows of the car, you see the bells shining in the dim light of the streetlamps.
Upon returning home no one in the family was brave enough to touch your wrists, only upon seeing the wrapped and swinging ribbon a new despair infested the house, from what you understand they would not like the great Santa Freddy visiting them early and giving the very early "Christmas present", present in paper format. Confused or not, it doesn't matter, what really matters is your little feet running excitedly towards the bedroom where you sleep, opening and closing the heavy door as hard as you can, grabbing the mattress and climbing the bed as fast as you can, gathering all the cotton friends around and throwing yourself on the sheets and pillows, stretching your wrists with the ribbon to the new sky and gently waving your arms from side to side.
Hearing the bells ringing again makes that warm little bubble in your heart begin to blossom, much slower, maybe a little emptier, or incomplete, but you still feel it's there. In the quest to feel that bubble again your arms flap harder and faster, which has the totally opposite effect you expected, now the bells sound messed up, returning to their slow flutter because of the pain of exhaustion. You feel a tear slide down your cheek without having yawned before.
It's impossible for the people living in the house not to notice the constant shrill sounds from the room, opening the bedroom door only to see you staring at the ceiling again, only this time with an outstretched arm. One last hopeful sigh as you looked thoughtfully toward the window you asked them for a small help, just to put the bells on the window stand so you could see the ribbon hanging there while feeling the evening breeze with the calm moon or the sun's rays to the magnificent sun, just.
The frayed ribbon swayed quietly in the night wind, the bells beat softly from side to side, reflecting the full moon behind them. Your eyes mirrored the glow next to the thin dancing ribbon and the glistening metal, simply mesmerized, remembering for some reason the warmth of his red lights, feeling your heart quietly increase, your breathing stop for a few seconds and the words in your mind simply disappear...
You are listening to them.
Reflexively his hands grab his cotton friends, squeezing Sun and Moon's tightly, and what was once eyes widened by the beauty of the ribbons and bells begin to close without any resistance, snuggling into the soft blanket and sinking each time more on the new pillow, the world returns to being a warm bubble like the summer heat and the smile makes the cheeks ache a little. The dream world is now welcome in the blankets.