I've been sleeping tight for a year because after shedding my clothes, I slip between two generic Tylenol PM's. It's reassuring to know that sleep will come on time, just the way I've planned, night after night. The side-effects include drowsy yet violent twitching that only jacking-off can cure,(more) unquenchable thirst, and waking unsure of where I am: east or west coast. It happened again this morning. Before I opened my eyes, I saw the peeling, colonial green moulding of my childhood bedroom. My dead sister picked that color. Our father's house. Some time passed as I absorbed it. Then the alarm went off and I was back in my studio suddenly grieving for them both. Water. No tears, just work in an hour.(less)
I was paralyzed. My eyes were shut tight, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't open them. The toes on my right foot felt ice cold, left out from the shelter of the warm blanket. The blanket, though providing warmth, suffocated me.
I could hear small giggle(more)s bouncing around the walls. Every time I sucked in a sharp breath, the giggles would commence. Small breezes passed around my bed, and I felt movements all around. I tightened my grip on the sides of the blanket, unable to move my body otherwise.
My limbs stayed frozen. I could see a few glimpses of movement beneath my eyelids, light moving in the dark dark room.
"Where are you?" a soft female voice entered from outside the room. The giggles moved around the room.
I felt something brush against my toes that were out of the blanket and I gulped nervously. It's just a dream, it's just a dream, I told myself. I was not at the new apartment I just rented. I was not alone in this room, let alone the apartment.
Keys jingled as the door creaked open.
"I found you," the female voice sang. I felt the giggles come closer to me. Their presence surrounded my bed.
In a chorus, they whispered. "Sleep tight."(less)
I knew something was wrong. I could see it in your expression, in the way your eyes focused on everything in a distant way (catching all of it to categorize it as either dangerous or friendly) without actually focusing on it. I heard it in your voice as you(more) told me everything was alright.
You lied. I held you down for an hour and a half to keep you from running off, from hurting yourself. I restrained your arms, legs, body as they twisted and fought against me to keep you from yourself.
Now the shadows have crept in and settling in their places for the evening, resting next to the light which flows out from the dim lamp. The cushions of the chair I placed next to the lamp compress under my weight and stick to my thighs where the sleep shorts stop. The decaf tea is cold and over steeped whenever I remember to take a sip of it.
You look so peaceful as you rest. Even though it is not the completely naive bliss that everyone talks about when their loved ones sleep, it seems like heaven compared to the hell we just went through.
I'm exhausted, but my eyes are glued on you, waiting to see if anything is going to happen, hoping it won't but not willing to trust my gut and my previous experiences. Sleep tight, love. I know I won't be able to close my eyes a wink tonight. (less)
"And when you're an adult," her mother said, "you'll
want to be a child again."
"No I won't. Because when I'm an adult, no one will tell me when to go to bed. I ca(more)n stay up as late as I want."
Her mother would just smile and finish tucking her into bed. It was the conversation they had every night. And just before her mother would shut the light off and leave the room, she would say, "Sleep tight."
And when the girl was grown, she spent the late night hours thinking about those conversations and how no one told her to sleep tight anymore.(less)