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Sleeping can take you to a fictional paradise, a false reality where you can act out your aspired life, just how you want it.
For Amanda, she would slowly count down the hours until the day ended. Her dreams would consist of an escape for herself and Wooly, knowing it's the closest to freedom she can get. Familiar faces beckon her to keep searching, rooting her on with false promises. And when she wakes up in her fake, colourful room, which was everyday, it only makes her more determined to find the missing piece to escape.
Though on some nights, she finds herself dreaming more than an escape. Sometimes, she doesn't sleep and is plagued by images of the person she was once, and the price she had to pay.
3AM.
Amanda's eyes shot open, being faced with her biggest fear- the dark. Her starry nightlight, the one Wooly gifted her for her ‘birthday’, no longer projected comforting starry visuals on the ceiling. For Amanda, the dark is one of her biggest fears, just the earrieness of what could be lurking there. The clock read 3:33AM, the oddly specific time making her nervous. Why had she woke up just now?
The subtle shadowy outline of objects scattered around her room only added on to her rising anxiety. The chair looked like a figure plotting its next move of attack on her, she swore it even moved.
After the nightlight, the only thing that comforted her during this state of fear is Mr. Rooster. He made her feel safe, protected, and is her source of comfort in the middle of the night. While keeping a close eye on the shadowy figures in the room, Amanda rose to search for the neglected plush…except…
She couldn't…
Her arm stayed laid down beside her body. Her body was completely shut down. Her body felt pinned down by some invisible force, trapped in her own fear and mind. Her chest felt tight under the blanket, which felt like it was trapping her to the bed. Her fingers were aching to move. She failed to ground herself as she let out urgent, frequent whimpers, her eyes shifting to every dark corner in her room, which now felt more like a cage than a safe haven.
It felt too real. She could feel the softness of the mattress dipping down beneath her- the slight chill breeze from the opened window, followed by the damned closet door creaking- like it knew what to do to scare her.
A soft scratching noise alerted her, though it wasn't evident that she was on edge. Her gaze was fixed on the darkest corner- waiting, like she knows who's there.
Amanda made eye contact with it.
Her eyes widened as she took in the obscure but evident shadow on the ceiling, hanging down like some playful kid. It tilted its head at the sudden attention, seeing her paralysed in place, helpless. Multiple white eyes bored down at her terrified eyes, its razor sharp claws making obvious indents in the ceiling. It was like it was locked in place once she knew of its presence.
The afro puffs on its head embodied hers like a reflection. Its head tilted in acknowledgement, maybe curiosity at her frightened appearance. This wasn't the first time they have met, though not always visible, it always followed her around like a burden.
It slowly crawled towards her on the wall, making an unsatisfying sound of plaster being scratched off. She let out a line of whimpers, like a way of begging it to stop. Something about the unnatural twist of limbs and growls made Amanda realise it was here for more then to mess with her.
It took its time, wanting her to feel this moment of horror. Once it was above her, it slowly made its descent towards her, crawling on the wall. As if on cue, soft whispers saying; ‘Give in’ followed along the entity's movement like a warning.
It was now dangerously close.
Its heavy breathing grazed over her face, making her close her eyes. It took one long sniff of her, inspecting, which garnered a soft whimper from her closed mouth. Its tongue fell out of its mouth, dangling lazily for a few seconds before it licked a long, wet stripe from her forehead to her collar, like it was tasting her.
Amanda had her eyes screwed shut, hoping that if she ignored it, it would go away. That never worked. Though anticipation got to her, and she opened her left eye, nervous of what she was about to see. It was now gone from hovering above her on the wall, to now gripping the headboard of the bed, giving it an easy lift to where she laid on the bed.
It clamped its teeth down in a silent threat, knowing that even if she tried, she couldn't move. It let out an interested noise as something on the ground caught its attention, before picking it up. It held Mr. Rooster's leg, dangling it in the air like it was disgusted by the toy. From the reaction it garnered from Amanda, it gave it the impression that it was important to her. It huffed, unsatisfied, before flinging it across the room. Its attention was now drawn on Amanda, and began to crawl on the bed, claws almost punctured the mattress as it slowly approached her.
Her eyes were sleek with tears, her whimpers softer now. The tip of its finger slowly dragged down her chin, to her delicate throat, and pressed down on where her voice box would be. It felt like poison. It pressed harder, testing her tolerance. She wouldn't fight- not like she could. It's tongue flicked out over its razor sharp teeth, hungry. Amanda gave it a pleading look, begging for some mercy in this creature from hell. Its mere existence is to torment her for some satisfaction. It shook its head and stretched out its lanky arm towards her, placing a pointed finger on her lips as it mimicked a ‘shhh’ noise.
Her breath was caught as a deep pressure formed on the centre of her chest. Her body felt like it was falling down an endless abyss. Her body went numb as she felt her mind shut down before-
Snap.
Immediately, she sat up, hunched over herself. Her mouth was gaped open, gasping for air. Her shirt was damp slightly with her sweat. Her hands went to her body, touching, feeling. She swiftly looked around the room, taking note of any differences. Her first instinct was to grab her bedside clock and looked at the time.
3:37
She slammed the clock on the bedside table, still catching her breath. She saw Mr. Rooster discarded on the floor, and she scooped him up, holding him tight. She sighed in relief when her cheek made contact with the cold pillow, making sure to pull the blanket high. Her heart was still racing from that nightmare, or whatever it was.
Her hand went to her throat, remembering its rough yet delicate touch. She felt her throat move as she swallowed, her mouth dry. She curled in on herself, letting herself finally rest. She shifted to her back, her eyelids closing.
The last thing she saw was the small indents on the ceiling.