Ah dreams…that time of night where you get to think about your day, that blissful time where vivid pictures come into your mind. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling but sleep doesn’t come. You patter downstairs quietly to check if you locked the door. Yup, you did. You stare wearily at the coffee pot, contemplating making a pot for tomorrow. “Sure, why not?” You ask yourself. Pouring the coffee in the filter, you mumble tiredly lost in thought again. “Maybe I should paint” You think, an idea forming as you fill the coffeemaker with water and turn it on. Setting up your easel in the dining room you begin to paint. Trees, so many trees you paint. An ominous moon hangs in the sky, a deep orange foretelling warning. Faster you paint a spiderweb, clear and yet it stands out against the deep bluish gray background. Eyes, so many cat eyes you draw, cringing inwardly. “So it’s that kind of painting” you mutter with confusion, your eyes drawn to the center unable to look away. Shivering, you put down your paints and go into the kitchen to turn off the coffeepot. Trudging up to bed, you sigh quietly and scramble under the covers, a chill setting you off. That painting. What made you paint that? “There was no thought really. My hand just seemed to paint” You think, yawning tiredly but still sleep doesn’t come. You reach over and pick up your book, your eye catching the swirls of the lava lamp on your table. “Hmmm” you think before turning your back and dismissing it. Shadows dance on your walls and you stare, transfixed biting your lip. Shaking your head quickly, you try to read. Your body tenses involuntarily and you mutter unintelligibly before cuddling down under the covers. Staring at the clock which reads 1:24 am, you growl, irritation spiking. “What is going on with me?” You throw the covers back, shaking in a cold sweat and patter down the stairs finding yourself facing the painting that you were sure you left in the dining room. “This is too weird” you mutter putting it back where you left it. Walking into the living room, you spy the door open. “I thought I shut this” you think rubbing your head. A slam, startles you out of your reverie and you watch, brow furrowed. “The wind” you mutter turning away. Then it happens again. “This is ridiculous!” you shout. Stomping over, you lock the deadbolt and then just to be safe, you lock the bottom lock as well. Wandering around the house, you check all the doors, locking each one in turn. Making some chamomile tea, you wander up to bed, snuggling under the sheets. Drinking your tea slowly, you feel yourself finally begin to drift off at 3AM, the clock notes across the room. “Ahh sleep finally” you think drifting off. You jolt awake a few minutes later breathing heavily. Your lip is bleeding and your heart is racing erratically. “What?” you think tasting metal. Padding off to the bathroom, you check noticing a jagged scar. Screaming several expletives, your voice sounds distorted. Diving under the sheets you tremble, unable to sleep. You close your eyes trying to tell yourself it’s only a nightmare, but deep down you know better. The glass shatters next to you and your bed flies toward the window with the gust of wind from nowhere. You fall, cut by the glass and run from home. To where you don’t know yet. You startle awake wondering if it was all just a horrible nightmare
Well, whatever helps you sleep at night.