Nightmares. I have had a problem with them since I was in middle school. The worst thing is, you can’t possibly assume when you are going to have them. So, the night I woke up gasping for air made me think they came for a visit one more time. But this time, it was different. I couldn’t remember what the dream was about, I tried so hard but my memory didn’t really seem to cooperate with me.
I got rid of the disturbed feeling I had, looking at my clock to see that it was 4:39 am. Through the childhood I had, you could say I wasn’t really afraid of the dark, but that night everything seemed so wrong, but for some odd reason, it felt just right.
I had this uncanny feeling like I was being watched. My wild imagination and anxiety did their job, creating a picture of a completely naked, anorexic man with an extremely pale tan and bulging veins all over his head, staring at me with his pure black eyes and a disturbing creepy smile, tilting his head every now and then, in a rhythm that went along my heartbeat. “Stop!” I screamed as if my own thoughts could hear me.
I decided to freshen up with a glass of cold water. As I stood up, I saw my own reflection in one of the mirrors my dad had put up. They were set up in a way, so that if you stand in certain spots, you can’t be seen, but you somehow have a view of the entire room. It was quite genius, I have always admired his ability to come up with unique ideas like that.
As I was putting my slippers on, I heard my phone ringing. I rushed to answer it, not having a clue what could anyone possibly want from me in the middle of the night. “Hello?”– My voice shivered as I reached for my phone.
Seconds passed by, still nothing. “Who is there?” – I mindlessly raised my voice. No-one answered, all I could hear was someone breathing at the exact same rhythm as I did. I hung up, assuming some kids were playing some prank on me. I neglected that for a second as my raging thirst in my parched throat reminded me why I got up in the first place.
The peace and tranquility that reigned in my home were almost deceptive, creating a vision of a place that has never been touched or ruined. All the lights were off, even though I could swear that I left the light in my living room on. I headed towards my kitchen and saw that the back door was wide open, just like my eyes at that moment.
I wished I could just sprint to my parents’ bedroom and wake them up, but they had to be out of town that night. I was home alone and I think in my whole entire life I had never been more scared compared to what I was feeling at that certain moment. As fast as one’s legs can carry one I shut the door and let the sense of tragedy and fear overwhelm me.
After hearing my ears in my heart, I gradually adjusted them to hear in the pitch black kitchen in which I lonely stood. Grabbing the biggest knife I could find made me feel safe in a way, but it was only me who knew that I would never have the intrepidity to attack another being. *drip, drip, drip* Steady sounds were coming out of the sink.
I reached out to turn off the faucet to find that it was completely off in the first place. I couldn’t play this sick game anymore, I groped for the closest light switch I could find and flipped it on.
I screamed in dread, seeing what caused the dripping. My sink was full of blood. Above it hung my parrot, stung by a noose. A long straight line cut from his head all the way to his tail exposed his intestines causing me to gag and choke on my own spit.
But the reason why I almost felt sick, was the fact that my right hand and knife were entirely bedaubed with blood. Next to my dead hung parrot, was a note written in blood, and I had no reason to wonder whose blood was it. With a sense of foreboding, I read the note aloud.
“What do you think about your surprise? If I was you, I’d see with my ears rather than my eyes.” The words ran through my veins as I stood there with the note in my hand trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “What have I engaged myself in?”
I thought and immediately pinched myself, to make sure that this wasn’t just another bad dream. I held my dismay as I realized that its reality where I was. Out of the blue, the power went off. “Not again.” I thought as I heard a loud noise coming from the back door I had previously shut. I sprang and hit my head in the fridge.
As if the loud swearing could make the pain go away, I remained focused on the sounds coming from the back door. In a matter of seconds, the reverberation grew quieter and quieter until it became practically dimmed. I opened the closet door and grabbed my baseball bat, slowly approaching the back door. “Is anyone there?” I whispered, letting one tear slowly go down my cheek as I became aware of the apprehension in my voice.
The steps I took towards the door and the mysterious sounds behind it seemed like they were taking forever. You could feel the tension growing in the air as I snatched the doorknob. As I revealed the view hidden behind the door, I couldn’t help but scream as loud as humanly possible. Sarah – my one true friend since kindergarten was hanging there with nothing but an internet cable tightly tied around her neck.
I guess it was ironic in a way. She dedicated her whole life studying about computers and her mom had always told her that the internet is going to kill her eventually, and I suppose it did. Having no control over the stupid thoughts rushing in my mind, I noticed another note. This time, it was nailed into her heart. It read: “One down. One to go. You are the last one, so make sure you enjoy the show.”
At that point, I broke down. I started crying and twitching due to all I’ve experienced in the previous hour. But there was this part of me not ready to surrender. I wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet. I was determined to destroy whoever this eccentric freak was and I was more than prepared to play his mad game until I won.
I decided to go up in my room and try to calm down. As I walked through the living room I heard an odd sound, like something was maybe being dropped down the stairs. I rushed to see what it was.
It was a severed arm drenched in blood. I heard the exact same sound again although this time it was a leg. And then finally a head. It was Dylan’s head – my boyfriend, with wide open eyes and colorless face, his head laid in my hands. I gradually backed into one of the corners, as tears were streaming down my burning cheeks.
I looked in one of the mirrors and saw that they were all blocked by bodies standing still and staring at me. I had no idea that when there was no more room in hell the dead would walk the Earth. I couldn’t stand this anymore. I felt like I was defeated, beaten and in despair I begged for help I knew I wouldn’t get.
Then, I looked up at the only mirror my eyes could find and saw what caused this huge mess. I saw the person, the beast, I saw the horrible monster who was in charge of this manic chaos.
I did it. It was my fault. I was the monster. In that moment of realization, my dream rushed to me. I could remember everything. It was as clear as a day. I was a murderer. A serial murderer on the loose. I had been killing house by house, as brutally and ferociously as I could.
I was taunting and mocking my victims, trapping them in challenges making them feel like death was their only escape, their only solution to win this sick game I’ve been playing for months. And when I woke up, I was attacking my next victim.
I saw my reflection in the mirror in which I peacefully stared. There was a wicked smile on my face and blood stains all over my clothes. In the most deranged tone of voice, I whispered: “Told you, you were the last” and promptly slit my own throat.
The laceration caused agony and twitching. As all my color and life left my body, the outsides of my vision slowly began to darken. And there was him. The anorexic man from my dream stood at the end of the tunnel in my head. His black eyes felt warm and his demonic voice saying “Welcome home” made me vanish from the living. Once and for all.