Teaser: Inspiring Nightmares

Here is a little section of some nightmares I had last night.

I close the door behind me. There is no one else in this house. We only moved in recently, but it was my grandparents house. My Mom used to live here as a child. She will probably be home. I notice that some of the windows are open, so I close them. The neighborhood is empty. No one is around. But then as I close a window I catch a glimpse of someone standing on their porch staring directly at me. I look into their eyes. Or rather, the dark, black pits, circles of coal and pitch where their eyes should be. It is only for a moment and I instantly snap my gaze away and close the blinds, not bothering with closing the windows anymore. I go to the living room and hide behind a chair. The window is behind another wall now, but I can still feel that person’s gaze, staring at me through the wall.

I know it’s still there, watching me. That’s when I notice something else. My vision goes blurry. When I blink, my vision returns to normal clarity but rapidly degrades into blurry fuzz, forcing me to blink far more often than I ever wanted too. The worst part, it forces me to think about blinking. I hate it. I just keep my eyes closed for a while than bothering with blinking away the blurriness. I hear the handle to the door of my house jostle. I snap my eyes open. I instantly close them again to blink. I need to blink so much. It’s terrible. The door creaks open and I hear footsteps slowly slapping against up the stairs towards me. I stay as still as I can, hiding behind the rocking chair. I hold my breath, worried that my panicked breathing will give me away, but I’m so out of breath that I need to keep breathing. I try to keep my breathing slow and quiet.

I can see its shadow in the doorway to this room. Its shadow moves past the rocking chair, so it’s coming towards me. I can’t make out any footsteps on the carpeted floor in this room. But its shadow warns me that it is coming closer. How does it know exactly where I am? The rocking chair squeaks as a weight settles in it. It is sitting in the rocking chair. I can see their smooth soft arms on the arm rests of the chair. I am behind it. I dare not look up to its head, I can already imagine those black holes for eyes staring back at me. Of course, given how its arms on the arm rests, it would have to twist its head backwards to face me. So I dare peek upwards.

Long hair covers it. At first, I am still convinced that this is the front of the face and not the back of the head. And I am afraid. But I quickly realize that this person has long hair and must be a woman and I am staring at the back of her head. Then it speaks. “Son, where are you?” I sigh in relief. It’s just my mother. I come out from behind the rocking chair and smile. It’s just Mom. Looking at her face, everything goes blurry like I’m underwater until I blink it away for another moment. Mom notices that I am blinking abnormally frequently. But more than that, she says can see my face warp. I fear what that might mean. I tell her about the person I saw out the window.

Mom looks down. She believes me without hesitation. She is quiet and solemn. I ask her about her reaction and she looks up to me. Her face is contorted into a swirling spiral of flesh. Her eyes, nose, mouth, all twisted like a blackhole is pulling them into her face. Then two holes open in her twisted face where her eyes should be. These holes close and then open again, normal eyes. Her face is no longer twisted. “I’ve seen it too.” She says, “Blinking keeps it at bay.” She gets up to close all the blinds and curtains. I help, but we both keep our blinking eyes down, looking at the floor. I fear that if I look through any window, I’ll see that face staring back at me.

Ever since I saw that face, something has changed. I can’t be sure what exactly it was. My mom and I hide in the kitchen where there are the least amount of windows. We keep our eyes closed as we eat from bags of chips and other junk food that we don’t have to make ourselves. We are too paralzyed with fear to get up and move around, to do what we need to live a normal life. We’re running out of food. This bag of Cheetos is the last one in the house. We don’t have the courage to go out and buy more.

I hear a knock on the door. I freeze. Stupid bag. It’ll make noise if I move at all. Mom is also perfectly still. The door knocks again. I can’t move, I am so scared. My vision goes blurry as I am too scared to even blink. But then the door creaks open. I hear footsteps. It’s not Mom this time. I know she is in this room with me, even if I can’t see her through my blurry eyes. The colors of everything mesh together. It’s a grey haze. Footsteps. They’re coming towards me. Breathing. I can hear it breathing. Probably because it’s subtle breaths are loud compared to the silence of my own unbreathing body. I am perfectly still. I’ll die, not breathing if I don’t work up the courage to breathe, even though it might hear me. I consider my options and think that suffocation might not be a bad way to go in comparison to facing that thing again.

Someone taps on my shoulder, before I can react I swivel my head to see who it is. I can’t make it out. It’s all blurry. I hear a hiss as it lets out a breath of air. It steps backwards, rapid. It stops suddenly, catching itself. For once, I struggle to keep myself from blinking. Too paralyzed to move, I can’t look away. But as long as I don’t blink, I won’t be able to see it. It’s too blurry. But how long can I possibly keep my eyes open? My eyes are already watering.

As tears run pool on the folds of my twisted face and the whole world appears to mesh together as one, the irritating pain in my eyes grows unbearable. I can’t handle it. It’s only been a second or two and I’ve already given up. I blink. The face staring back at me, with it’s mouth agape and eyes open wide, is that of a friend that lives in a different state. Seeing that it is not the thing I thought it was, I breath rapidly, coughing as I have gone so long without air. My sputtering breath and rapid blinking. Tears and spit fly everywhere.

My friend sees my coughing fit and says, “So sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought I saw… well, it doesn’t matter.” He proceeds to explain that they were on their way home from vacation and were in the neighborhood, so they wanted to drop by for a visit. They had tried calling us to ask if it was okay, but we never picked up.

When my vision goes blurry, my friend’s face appears to begin to twist. But blinking returns it normal. It’s my face that is twisting, not his. He sees how the house hasn’t been cared for, and seems to get a bit concerned. He also observes our stress, so he offers to take us for a drive to calm our nerves. It would probably be good for us to leave, but we can’t accept that offer. That would require us to leave the house. To go outside, where we know that thing is waiting. Eventually, my friend sees that we just aren’t cooperating with him and won’t do anything at all. So he gives up and leaves. Mom and I close our eyes, as we sit in the kitchen. It keeps our faces from twisting. That is enough.

With my eyes closed for so long, I must have fallen asleep. I open my eyes, and for the first time in what feel like forever, the world doesn’t go blurry. I’m confused. How is this possible? I look over to the other side of the kitchen, Mom isn’t there. It’s crazy. Are we cured? I know Mom would never leave that spot, never move, not even to eat or use the bathroom. But that is because of the face that haunts our minds and causes our eyes to blur. But now, my eyes don’t go blurry. And since she isn’t lying there anymore, she must be cured as well. This is wonderful.

My breathing is calm and quiet now. It’s been so long since I could hear anything beyond my own pounding heartbeat and heavy breathing, but now I am cured. It is wonderful. But in this newfound silence I can hear something directly to my right. Breathing. Soft breathing accompanied by hot, wet air tickling my right ear. I realize that my right arm is interlaced with someone else’s. There is warmth, a body on my right. I don’t know if I want to turn to look at who it is. I can tell that it’s not my mother. The body is too small, it doesn’t weigh much. And the hand locked in mine is so small, its skin so smooth. The person is younger than me.

Finally, I work up the courage to face it. Staring me in the eyes, breathing softly, is my little sister. Large, dark brown eyes with dilated pupils looking at me attentively, as though I were the most interesting thing in the world. Long brown hair flowing down her neck. She is absolutely adorable. I can’t believe I was so scared of my little sister. I figure I should go find Mom. I stand up, still clutching my little sister’s hand. She walks by my side as I go through the kitchen. Mom is surely already eating breakfast, I should get some for my sister and me.

In the kitchen, a small body is holding its knees to its chest, back against the metal fridge. The little girl looks up when I enter the room. It’s my little sister. She looks exactly like my other little sister. Of course, these, my twin sisters, are probably hungry. I should really get them some food. I grab hold of the hand of my other little sister and use my foot to open the fridge. I examine the contents and then ask my little sisters, “What would you like to eat?” They don’t answer. Instead, they continue staring at me as they have been doing the whole time. “Not hungry? That’s okay, I guess I’ll just get some yogurt and cereal for myself.” I say. I let go of their hands to gather the food. As I set it up on the table, I notice my two twin little sisters are still standing right next to me, staring me in the eyes.

I eat the cereal in the yogurt, my little sisters staring at me the entire time. After I am done eating, I put away my dishes and decide to get out dishes for my family while I’m at it. I take out three bowls and set them at the table. I also get out spoons and cups. Two small plastic cups for my little sisters, a tall glass cup for Mom. Two small metal spoons for my little sisters, a large metal spoon for Mom. Two small plastic bowls for my little sisters, a large glass bowl for Mom. After I have the table all set, I take hold of the hands of my two little sisters. I enter the hallway to Mom’s room to check if she is awake yet.

In the hallway to Mom’s room. My little sister stands, staring at me. She looks just like my two other little sisters. They are triplets after all. “Hey, little sis.” I say, “I set out a bowl and spoon for you if you're hung-” I stop. I didn’t set up a bowl and spoon for her. I had set up a bowl, spoon, and cup for Mom and my two little sisters. Why hadn’t I set one up for my third little sister? I look back at the table, sure enough, there were only three sets of dishes there. And one of those sets is clearly for Mom. How had I made such a mistake?

I turn back to face my little sister in the hallway. She just stands there, staring at me, like the two at my sides. They don’t speak. The third little sister is standing in the hallway just outside Mom’s room, and the door is slightly ajar. I walk up to her with my two little sisters following by my sides, holding my hands, looking me in the eyes. I peek into Mom’s room. There she is, lying on her mattress. We only moved here recently after all. We haven’t had time to get a proper bed. Actually, now that I think about it. I can’t remember much about the last few days. I think someone came to visit me yesterday, but it’s all blurry. I walk up to Mom. She is facing away from the door. I peek over her to see if her eyes are open or… her face is twisted beyond recognition. I stumble backwards. I feel hair against my right hand. I look down and my little sister’s face is covered with her long brown hair that goes down nearly to her feet. But her head is tilted as though she is facing me. I blink.