“Sweet Dreams” Pt. 3

A curled hand peaking out from under gray bed sheets in a beam of sunlight shaped in a rectangular pattern. The surrounding bed sheets are dark.

I’m Not Alone

My third nightmare was more scary than the last, and the most confusing dream of the week. I was in the middle of a normal dream, when suddenly I woke up, or at least thought that I did. I had only dreamt of waking up. I opened my eyes to see my room, barely lit with a dim salt lamp, like usual. My room looked exactly the same. My bed was still in the corner of the room where it had always been. The left side of my bed was pushed against the only wall with a window, and the right side was open to the rest of my room. The wall to the right of my bed had some shelving, a full-body mirror, and my dresser, while the wall in front of my bed had my hanging clothes, desk, and door.  Both my cat and dog were asleep next to me. The bird’s cage sat a few feet from the end of my bed, just in front of my hanging clothes. It mirrored reality perfectly, but something didn’t feel right. I sat up, hugging my knees. I knew something was in the room with me. I could sense a presence behind the cage, peering out at me from behind my hung clothing.  I could see a slight outline of a figure with large round eyes.  It held my gaze, locking my eyes with it’s own. I fell completely still, frozen by it’s stare. I was confused. My mind told me something isn’t right. As I looked into the eyes of this foriegn figure, across my room, I felt it’s deep concern for me, and it’s extreme concentration.  I’ve learned throughout life to always trust my gut feelings, whether I’m in a dream or not it’s always right. My gut was giving me mixed signals. I knew the thing that held my gaze wasn’t human, but I also felt no threat from it.  I was merely unsettled by it’s presence, however I was in danger. However, my body still reacted in fear, like I was in imminent danger, making my ribs tighten around my lungs. I remained frozen while my thoughts raced, trying to analyze my situation. The thing I was staring at, wasn’t trying to scare me: so why was my skin crawling? Our eyes remained locked, but I slowly took in my surroundings with my peripheral vision. Everything looked normal: the door was shut, good, the window well was empty, good, the cubby was clear, good, directly to my right, not good.  My chest caved in, instantly pushing all the air out of my lungs. The figure behind the cage continued to fixate its eyes on mine, but there was something in the mirror. I couldn’t see it clearly with just my peripheral vision. I instinctively wanted to turn and look, but I didn’t dare break my eye contact with the original figure. I could feel the anger radiating from my mirror. As my situation set in, I found myself in the third person. I was suddenly outside my body, staring at myself and my entire room. Having this change in circumstances, I immediately looked at my mirror. The thing in my mirror mimicked a human-like appearance, but it’s features were sharper, and it’s face too long to be natural. It was staring at me with an immense amount of fury, while I was staring at the end of my bed. I could only see it’s face and a single hand, pushed against the mirror from the inside. The longer I refused to look at it, the more anger it radiated. I find it hard to put into words the horrifying rage it had. It’s nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It was unnatural. As I watched the figure stare at my body, I was finally able to understand my situation. Firstly, the thing in my closet wasn’t human, but it wasn’t harmful either.  In fact it was trying to keep me from looking at the enraged figure in my mirror — which I believe, kept me from a death sentence. Secondly, something appeared to be inside my mirror. This figure was undoubtedly evil, and it was the reason my skin crawled with sharp tingles. It wanted me to look at it, and when the other figure stopped me, it became full of animosity. I didn’t know why it wanted my gaze, but I knew whatever the reason was, it wasn’t good. I could tell the slightest bit of acknowledgement would ultimately bring me face to face with something worse than death. This was my situation. The fear continued to grow inside me, making it hard to breathe naturally. I suddenly jolted back into my body, and my vision blurred with tears of fear. I came to the conclusion that as long as I ignored the monster in the mirror, I would be okay. I slowly turned my back to the mirror, lay down, and shut my eyes; finally breaking the stare between the soft figure and myself. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, and when I reached the end of my breath, my mirror shattered. That’s when I woke up, shaking, and staring at my mirror.

A sketch of a bedroom (as described in the story). The far left bottom depicts a girl sitting up in her bed with a little dog at her feet looking towards dark eyes behind her clothes in the closet. Next to these eyes behind the clothes is a desk, and continuing right there is a mirror and then a dresser, which is split in half by the spine of the notebook the sketch is drawn on. The dresser has a TV placed on top. To the right of the dresser is the mirror with the alien-like face in the center with no body. The shading is dark to depict a nighttime setting.