The Magical Lies We Tell Children

The Sandman

I woke up in the darkness breathing in the dampness of my sweat. It was hard to breathe in my room, and the darkness of the room added to the suffocating, claustrophobic feeling. I was sweating more than before, whenever I'd had a nightmare about her. I got out of bed and turned on the light. It was only 4:56 am. I knew I’d be tired tomorrow for work. I opened up the window to let in the air I didn’t even care how cold it became.

“What had me so shaken?” I gathered my thoughts as I sat back down on the bed and wiped the beads of sweat off my forehead and out of my eyes. “I can’t even remember,” I thought to myself.

And then I felt the darkest feeling I had ever felt in my entire life. It was darker than black itself. I turned around slowly. New beads of sweat began to replace the others that were scrubbed away. However there was nothing to be seen. I sighed, relieved and when I returned to my window I found a pouch on my nightstand. It was in a black pouch tied by a red string.

I stared at it for about a minute before picking it up and untying the knot. Whatever was inside felt loose and shifty. I tilted the bottom of the pouch and sand bled from its opening.

“A bag of sand,” I said. “A stupid bag of sand.” and then I heard a tiny voice.

“The Sandman came Dad.” my daughter said from behind me. I turned to look at her startled. It was odd I didn’t hear her come in.

“Emily what are you doing up so late, pal,” I asked her with concern.

“The Sandman was in my dreams. He saw yours too. Did you see him?” Her voice was very quiet and unsteady.

“Emily what are you-” I lost my train of thought as I began to stare at her skin. She was pale and her eyes were rounded with dark circles. Her pupils were dilated so much it appeared that her irises were completely gone. Her dark brown hair was messy as if someone tested static electricity on the top.

I felt a breeze colder than the one coming from the window. “Emily,” I called in a whisper as I started to walk backwards.

“Dad why would you do that to mommy,” she asked in a monotonous voice.

“What are you talking about dear?” I took another step to the window and I began to freeze more and more with every step.

She leaped into the air and landed on the bed so lightly it wasn’t humanly possible. “You killed her. The Sandman showed me. I hate you,” She yelled and the glass on the open window shattered. I covered my ears and toppled forward towards her, stepping on the tiny and large shards of glass. The pain shot through my legs like many knives. I cried in agony.

“Emily the Sandman doesn’t exist!” I held onto the wall staring at her in pain and confusion and some terror.

Emily shouted again and this time I toppled back releasing the wall falling out of the window. It was a long fall.

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