nightmares // harry styles

1.

The dreams all started out virtually the same. There I'd be, lying in my bed, legs tangled in my thick, cool comforter. There would be a calm, almost serene atmosphere, the only audible noise being the ticking of an old, ancient clock my grandmother had gifted me when I told her how lovely I thought it'd looked and a cheap fan that I'd thrifted at some random store during my free time. The only visible light would be that of the moon or occasionally the hallway light that'd peaked through the cracks of my bedroom door frame. My room always looked however I'd left it that specific night before I went sleep, basically meaning it was always tidy. I'm sorta a neatfreak.

And though I knew what was to come, I'd always enjoy it while it lasted. A small, content smile would be lightly be placed upon my plump lips, my breathing slow and steady, almost as if I were asleep. Well, asleep in my dream..er, nightmare. In a way, it was quite sick really. It was like I would be waiting, calmly for the terror to commence. Almost as if I were under the impression that what was to come would be enjoyable, which couldn't be farther from the truth.

Then, almost as if on cue, he'd appear. Well, I'd always assumed they were a male. They were tall, towering over my shortness of only 5'6". To match, they had quite a lanky figure, despite their somewhat broad shoulders. But, those were the only characteristics I could ever truly point out. They didn't have face, their whole body only being an eerie, midnight black shadow. They never spoke, contributing to the silence that lurked in the room.

He always appeared at my door, making his way in. He'd pause and stare at me for an amount of time that I could never quite calculate, almost as if he was trying to be sure that he'd come to the correct room. But, it was probably just an intimidation factor. He'd stroll across the stained, carpeted floor. Somehow his black figure completely stood out in the darkness that engulfed the room. With each step he took, I became even more frightened and though I couldn't visibly see it, I could feel the devious smirk that was plastered across his face, if he had one. And when he reached the edge of my bed, he stood there for what seemed like hours. Not even moving his fingers, he was still as stone. I didn't make a sound, my body completely numb from the top of my head to my toes.

From there, several terrors could occur, more frequently though was when he would climb on to my bed, both of his legs on either sides of my body and his hands gripping my neck. The pressure would build up and eventually, I could not breathe. It would become too strenuous to attempt to gasp for any air. And I knew he was enjoying it, though there was no visible signs of content. I just knew.

The room would suddenly turn black, even more so than before, if that were possible. He would disappear, along with all of the other miscellaneous items and pieces of furniture that I'd so carefully placed around my room in attempt to give it a positive feng shui. But in all honesty, I'd never truly believed in that stuff. I could breathe, but the air felt thick. It felt like the the walls would begin to close in on me. But, before they were truly given the opportunity to, the scenery would change.

I was in a bath tub, completely immersed in water that was mixed with crimson blood. Several pairs of hands, they were everywhere, holding my body down as I find myself struggling to reach for air, again. My eyes would open and despite the fact that everything was blurry because of the tinted water I was forcibly being drowned in, I would attempt to make out their faces. But, no matter how hard I'd tried, it was impossible, they were just too blurry. Soon I could feel myself giving in, gasping for air. And before I knew it, I'd given up. Physically, I knew I was dead. But I could still mentally view everything. The blurry beings that had been forcing me down inside the water only moments ago, well they were gone. There I was, left alone in the bright room, the water surrounding me now still.

For a few moments, I was convinced this was where it'd end. But, there he appeared, that terrifying black shadow. His hands slowly reached toward me, and when I say slowly, I truly mean that it seemed as though he was being somewhat restrained, using all of his strength to break free and become prized with my neck.

And then, I felt his grip tighten around my only passage for air.

And I screamed.

-

"Aurora, Aurora! Wake up!"

I gasped as my body immediately shot up from its deep slumber, holding my chest with my hands tightly, I could barely breathe. My vision was a bit blurry, still getting used to the sudden brightness that coated every wall, every corner of my room. I knew that it was a bad idea to replace the lighting in my bedroom with new, fluorescent lights. Still a bit confused, my head spun around the room in search of the source of the voice that was exclaiming in my ear only moments ago.

There my father sat, a glass of water in hand and a concerned, worn expression plastered across his face. Thin, parallel lines formed on his forehead, evidence of tiredness. He'd always blamed it on his old age, but I think both of my parents truly knew that it'd been due to waking up to my screaming every night for more years than I was willing to count.

Well, almost every night. I'd grown accustomed to skipping nights upon end of sleep, in fear of the nightmares. Yes, they were that bad. But, caffeine sure came in handy on those nights. My parents didn't approve, it wasn't healthy for me. I knew it too, but I was desperate for any escape from the terror that would awaken the second I would fall out of consciousness.

"How bad was it? You were screaming quite louder than you have in awhile." he asked as I'd began to down the cool glass of water, hoping it'd help me snap me out of the haze I was in, it happened after every nightmare.

"No different than all of the others.", I mumbled in reply.

There was a short silence before he asked, "what do you think about going back to a psychologist?"

I looked upat his face, his eyes full of hope.

I felt bad, almost. I mean, the nightmares, they weren't my fault. But I couldn't help but feel as though I'd been burdening them, even though I couldn't control my dreams, nightmares.

I wanted so badly to immediately say yes, but I knew it would do no good. In the past, I'd spent years and years visiting a psychologist, money pouring out of my parents bank accounts through each session. But, they did no good, not helping me one bit.

Of course, there were times, very very occasional times, when I'd gotten a good nights sleep. Only a handful of times in the last eight years. I cherished those nights, no images flowing through my mind. No dreams of cotton candy or my favorite boyband. But I didn't mind, I took what I could get.

Instead of reply with a shameful "no", I just slightly shook my head, leaning my head upwards to meet his blue eyes with my brown ones.

He nodded, patting my back slightly before standing up.

"Are you going to go back to sleep?"

"Yeah, I don't normally get more than one each night."

"Goodnight kiddo", he replied, giving me a slightly smile as he exited the room, flipping the light switch and leaving the door open like he always did. I felt comfortable having some sort of light source.

A sigh escaped my lips as I looked around the room. Nothing looked different compared to four hours ago when I prepared for bed with high hopes of not having to experience a heartstopping, well almost, nightmare.

Why can't I just be normal?

// hi hello I hope you enjoyed! If you catch any grammar/spelling mistakes, let me know because I didn't really edit this ! thank you ! xx //