Mark sat up in bed, gasping for air which eluded him for quite some time before he was finally able to breathe again. Sweat soaked his forehead and pillow as he struggled to come to grips what had just happened. He knew all too well what events recently transpired. It was something that was familiar now. Visions in the night interrupting the middle of a peaceful slumber. The terrifying memory of endless night terrors introducing an equally terrifying creature. The creature which had plagued his dreams as a child. It was a nightmare which consisted of a creature entering his room after the sun had set.
Mark could remember clearly the gurgles and snarls which emitted from within the throat of the thing. Mark would always hear the sound of footsteps methodically making its way down the hallway. Then, it would reach his bedroom door. At that point in the nightmare, Mark would bury his head under his pillow right before the menacing creature entered his room. The thing would slide itself onto the dresser directly adjacent to the bed and watch Mark. He never saw the thing within the nightmare, but he always felt its ever-present glare peering into his back. The dream would end with Mark dozing off again, to which Mark would wake up in the morning in a pool of his own sweat, shivering in fear.
Despite being much older now, Mark was still just as frightened of the monster as he had been when he was much younger. Thus, when he heard the footsteps trudging down the hall and towards his room, in a house where he was the sole occupant, he buried his head into his pillow as he always would. He shivered under the covers as he heard his bedroom door creak open. He trembled as he heard something mount his dresser, wincing as he heard a deep yet faint groan coming from the direction of the nightmarish creature. He could hear the gurgles and scratchy voice penetrating his ears, causing him physical discomfort. All the memories of nightly torment from his childhood came rushing back to him, and they affected him so strongly that he almost felt as if he were going to cry. What was probably a few minutes of waiting felt like an eternity to Mark before he heard the thing exit his room.
There sat Mark, sweating in his bed as the morning light seeped through his curtains. He quickly shook his head and stood up, stretching and yawning. The nightmare was so terrifying that he couldn’t sleep at all, and his fatigue was apparent in the forms of bags underneath his eyes. He opened his door and trudged to the bathroom, needing to urinate. He finished and approached the sink, where he washed his hands and dried them on the towel that sat beside him. It was when he looked down, however, that something caught his eye. An orange tablet container stood on the sink, unopened. Mark picked it up and twisted the container open. Mark frowned as he remembered his trip to the pharmacy earlier the other day. He had stopped there to pick up his insomnia medication. Insomnia caused by years of torment caused by his worst nightmare. The medicine bottle was completely full and untouched, for he had forgotten to take it the night prior.
Mark didn’t sleep a wink the following night.