Living Nightmares

It's cold, dark, empty eyes stare down at me, filling me with panic. My heart pounds and my body trembles with fear.

"Monica..." The monster screeches in a raspy voice. I open my mouth to scream, but pain fills my throat. "Monica..." It shrieks again.

"Monica!" My mom shakes me from a nightmare. "It's time for school!" She says. I sigh, relieved to be back to real life.

I have panophobia, which means I'm scared of everything. For a good reason, too. There's always something bad that could happen. There could be an earthquake, the roof could fall in, or you could have a stroke. Which is why I'm scared. No one believes me when I tell them about my fears, though, which doesn't help my worries.

I walk downstairs and take a seat at the table, where my mom and my brother, Jamie, are already seated.

"I had another dream," I announce. Jamie rolls his eyes and my mom raises her eyebrows.

"Oh?" My mom says. She shrugs it off. "I'm sure it's nothing. All growing teens develop little idiosyncrasies. It might be all the pressure from school." Jamie snorts at this.

"Yeah, right. She's homeschooled. How much pressure can she be under?"

He laughs. I shoot him a glare. Why can't someone just understand? Mom blows it off as school troubles every time I bring up the subject. That's why she pulled me out of regular school to homeschool me.

"Just get over it, Monica. Everyone has nightmares from time to time," my brother says, getting up to leave the table.

"But this is EVERY night!" I try to explain, but he's already gone. I sigh as I head back upstairs to my room.

I run a quick check of my room. It's been the exact same since third grade. My bed sits in the middle of the room, topped with blankets and pillows. Wall-to-ceiling bookshelves are across from the bed, filled with trinkets and, of course, books. My desk sits next to my bed, with a mirror and a clock hanging on the wall above it. I let out a relieved sigh. Everything in its perfect place. I turn to my closet doors and throw them open.

I take out an orange tank top and a pair of jeans, then pull my thick brown hair into a low ponytail. An uneasy feeling comes over me as if I'm being watched. I glance over my shoulder, but nothing's there. Weird. Suddenly, my brother bursts in.

"Hey, drama queen. Mom says time for math. Get to 'class.'" Jamie makes quotations around the word "class," then stomps off, slamming my door behind him. I decide to give up the fight. He's dead set on making my life absolutely miserable.

. . .

After a long day of fighting with my brother, all I want is a good night of sleep. But that's not what I get.

I'm trapped in another nightmare, strapped to the bed by some invisible force. A creature comes out of my closet, towering over seven feet high. A strangled scream comes out of its mouth as it stretches its claws out at me, ready to attack.

I wake with a start, my heart pounding so hard it shakes my whole body. I flip on my light and thoughts run through my head. Should I wake up Mom? No, she'll just say I'm overreacting. Should I call 911? It feels like I'm having a heart attack. What if I do? It's the middle of the night so no one will come to help me. I'm going to die. All alone. Totally terrified. In the middle of the night. With a killing monster-thing in my closet. Oh my god...

. . .

I'm not sure what time I fall asleep, but when I wake up, the sun is shining through my window and my clock reads 6:41. Time for school. Not ready to face my closet after last night's nightmare, I head downstairs in my PJs.

I take a seat at the table, but I don't pour my usual bowl of cornflakes. I've lost my appetite.

"You'll never believe this!" I exclaim.

"Let me guess," my brother interrupts. "You had another dream. Just like yesterday night, and the night before, and the night before. No surprise there, Monica." Jamie snarls.

My mom chooses to ignore my brother's comment. "I'm sure it's nothing, Monica. You just need to drink some water or something." She pats me on the shoulder. "Now go upstairs and get ready."

I huff up to my room. I don't why I ever bother telling them these things. They'll never listen.

I'm so angry I can hardly see straight. I turn to my closet and almost instantly, a chill comes over me. On impulse, I make a break for the door, only to bump into my desk. My vanity mirror wobbles, then falls to the floor, breaking into a million pieces. Seven years of bad luck. The thought crosses my mind, then run down the stairs in terror.

"Monica! Are you ok? What was that noise?" In my haste, I run into my mom. I open my mouth to tell her but then close it. She won't believe me if I tell her the truth. Instead, I just shrug. Mom's eyebrows raise in suspicion, but then lower.

"Alright, whatever. Anyway, I have a surprise for you!" She smiles brightly. "I finally got you a therapist!" Mom exclaims. She seems a little too excited about it.

"Sorry, Mom, but I don't understand. I mean, I know I have problems, but is my life really that messed up?" I ask

"What life?" Jamie appears at the foot of the stairs. Apparently, he just couldn't help but eavesdrop. "I'm the one with a social life! You just sit in your room all day reading and researching and never coming out! You're a hermit!" He's yelling now, his face so red, it looks purple.

"It's just a phase!" My mom yells back. They keep yelling, but I'm not listening anymore. I'm lost in my own thoughts. I don't have a life. I'm just a hermit, doing nothing with my life but worrying, I think. I run back up to my room. I don't care if something's living in my closet. At least it's quiet up there.

. . .

I spend the rest of the day in and out of sleep, fighting imaginary monsters and running from shadows. I leave my room only twice: once to go to the bathroom and another time to get a bowl of cereal. No one talks for the rest of the night. Eventually, night falls and for once, I'm excited to sleep. I drift off almost instantly.

Once again, I fall into another nightmare. This one is more detailed than the others. In it, I'm in my bed in the dead of night. I glance over at the clock. It's 11:14. My closet opens with a creak and the creature steps out. I sit still, hoping it won't notice me. It walks slowly, but I can't run. I'm frozen with fear. The creature's standing over me now, breathing heavily. The last thing I see is my clock. It's 11:15. Then I black out.

I wake myself from the bad dream. I look over at the clock. It's 11:14. That's ironic... An uneasy feeling comes over me. It's just a coincidence. I turn back over to go back to sleep. I'm just about to drift off when a noise startles me. My closet slowly creaks open. I look back at my clock. It's 11:15.