Sleep Is Death

Entry 1

September 16, 2010

Thursday

10:25 PM

I was brushing my teeth when, from the corner of my eye, I saw a man watching me through my window. Even though I knew it'd be impossible since I live on the third floor, I flinched nonetheless and turned to the glass. Nothing was there; no one was watching me groom myself.

This happens every fucking night.

I eat dinner—pizza, pasta, pot roast, whatever—and someone's sitting on my sofa watching me eat in the kitchen. I look over, and there's no one there. I wash my dishes, and I feel someone's hot breath raising the hair on my neck and sending chills down my spine. I always jolt upright, turn at the hips, and see nothing or no one.

I brush my teeth, and with my eyes on the shiny faucet, I see a shadow closing in on me from behind. I always gag on the toothbrush when I quickly turn around, and, as always, there's nothing.

Next is my least favorite chore: taking a shower.

I used to prefer baths because it made me feel like I was a rich lady being catered to during a much-needed spa day, but then it happened again: I was frightened by the illusion of someone invading my privacy. My eyes were shut, listening to the three talk show hosts—a woman and two men—on the radio I had sitting on the sink. If asked what the topic was, I'd say I don't know because it was two years ago.

Two fucking years since I felt comfortable taking a bath.

I opened my eyes that night because the men went from giggling to cackling in such a sinister way, similar to someone holding a bloody knife or a smoking gun. They reminded me of Norman Bates, and I imagined their evil grins just like his or The Grinch's. When I opened my eyes, I saw someone walk out of the bathroom. He wore a black trench coat, a matching suede hat, and similarly colored squeaky rain boots.

If a cop placed me behind a glass, overseeing a lineup, I wouldn't be able to point that man out.

I jumped out of the tub of bubbles and cloudy water like someone launched my radio at me, and I hit my head on the toilet before landing on my side in the fetal position. There I was, laying in a puddle with my knees finding their way to my chest and my arms embracing them. I allowed this entity, a faceless and nameless being, to give me a concussion and a fear of taking a bath.

Not that showering is any better. There are a thousand ways I could die if startled, but it's the lesser evil because I'll be standing rather than sitting.

Tonight, I showered without incident but I was shaking nonetheless. Even while typing this, my eyes burn from shampooing with them open.

⌦ .｡.:*♡

A.N: I've been slowly getting back into horror lately. I honestly haven't touched a book since last year, I think, so this may be poorly written. The good news is that I'm very receptive to feedback, so if something doesn't make sense or if there are any errors, please comment or DM me. Every message helps me perfect this story as much as possible. :)

Also, the next chapter will be posted on May 22, 2024, at noon.

Thanks for reading!