My Nighttime Friend nosleep

As a child, I had horrible insomnia. I can remember wandering through our house late at night. I couldn’t have been more than five or six years old. My Power Puff Girls night gown hung off my little body. I remember waiting to hear my dad snoring in the next room before I got out of bed. I enjoyed the quiet. My life was hectic already and I constantly felt like I was an afterthought. No one could help it, really. That’s just how things were. My sister had a serious drug problem. To the point that my mom would get calls in the middle of the night to rescue her from self-destruction. I was used to being alone.

One of my earliest memories was around five years old. I remember laying in my Winnie the Pooh sheets staring at the glow in the dark stars on my bedroom wall. The murky glow they gave in the dark kept my eyes busy for a while. After what seemed like an eternity, I would get up and find something to do. I had plenty of toys to play with in my room. Most of the time, I would get a doll out or something quiet. The whispered exchange between my toys kept my cover in the wee hours of the morning. At five, you don’t have a real sense of time. After a while, I would crawl back into bed and sleep.

This started to become a nightly ritual. First, I would tip toe down the hallway to our small living area. I would take a look around and stare at the moon shining through our back door glass. Tuck, our dog, would raise his head in interest, but lay back down when I didn’t acknowledge him. Eventually I got brave enough to get into the refrigerator or the snack cabinet. I would help myself to an extra sweet treat I was told not to eat earlier that night. Being on my own was fun. My festivities would always end back in the bedroom I shared with my other sister.

One night, though, I went back in the room and saw a pair of glowing eyes in the corner. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom and stared at them, frozen with fear. My eyelids shut tight. I peeped with one eye to see that they were still in the corner. I slowly backed up into my parents’ bedroom directly across the hallway. I tried to wake my exhausted mother. She stirred slightly.

“Mama? I can’t sleep.” I whispered.

My mom’s hands would reach on her night table to grope for her glasses in the dark. “Sis, it’s really late. You need to be asleep.” A hint of annoyance was in her tone.

She got up and usher me back into my room. The eyes still glowed in the corner. I cautiously got into bed. My mom pulled the covers up to my chin and told me to go to sleep. I would ask her to stay, but she always told me that I needed to stay and try to go to sleep. As a thumb sucker, I tried to soothe myself. Not even that did the trick. The eyes stayed constant as I tried not to look directly into them, but kept tabs with my peripheral vision. Involuntarily, my gaze turned back toward them as they started to move closer to my bed. My legs sprang up to my chest and I clutched my stuffed bear. My body started trembling. Small bursts of air went in and out of my lungs as I clenched my teeth together. I had no idea how to cope with this, but I was doing all I could. They came right to the edge of the bed and stopped. Like a rising cloud of steam, the eyes rose to match the height of the top bunk where my other sister slept.

I could see the faint silhouette of a genderless creature. The poorly lit stars made the figure look like a terrifying drawing out of Harold and the Purple Crayon. Slowly, the figure sat down on my bed. I laid there motionless as I could feel my body continue to convulse. An arm rose from the figure and brought one finger up to what I assumed was a mouth, signaling me to be quiet. Then, the arm stretched over to me and the hand went over my mouth. I felt the pressure of the hand on my lips. My eyes danced wildly as I tried to make noise. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t scream. After a few moments, my body started to relax and calm. My heart rate was still high, but my body was becoming limp. My eyelids became heavy and started to close. The pressure remained as I fell asleep.

The next day, I asked my mom if the old television could be put in our room. My mom was hesitant, but agreed. As my mom tucked us in later that night, she left the television on. The intro to Zorro floated through the speakers. My eyes cautiously looked around the room. I didn’t see any eyes. I carefully got out of bed and went about my nightly routine of exploration and snacks. As I entered my bedroom, once again, it was back. My toys had been laid out on the floor. One of my Barbies sat in the floor with a small cloth doll sitting beside her. The doll was all black with two white specks for eyes, not unlike my nightly guest. The figure was in the corner squatting, waiting. I kneeled down in the floor and wrapped my nightgown around my legs. I felt cold all over. My eyes darted back and forth between the figure and my toys as I continued with my routine. The figure sat motionless.

When I began to feel sleepy, I slowly made my over to my bed. The eyes followed my every movement. The covers were cold from being empty. Icy sensations ran up my legs and I curled my body together for warmth. Then, the room went dark. I heard a sigh echo through the room. When I looked over, the figure was standing near the television. Like the night before, the figure put a hand over my mouth, and I fell asleep.

Soon, it became a nightly occurrence for me to see the figure. After a few days of having the doll, a stitched name appeared on the back. I was still learning how to read at that point, so I didn’t know what it said until my mom found it one day.

“Lizzy, who’s Gordo?” She asked.

“I don’t know.” I said, truly confused by the question.

“I found this doll on your bed this morning. It says Gordo on the back.” She raised the doll up to show me. “You don’t remember where this came from?”

“Oh! Gordie! Yeah, that’s my friend. We play sometimes.” I said simply.

“Is it a friend in the neighborhood? I haven’t ever heard about a Gordie.” She said as she set the doll far back on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, he lives around here.” I replied.

“Be careful playing with kids you don’t know. Always come and find me before going to play with them. Do you understand me?” She asked, with concern in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am.” I said with my eyes toward the floor.

That night as I ventured into the kitchen, my older sister was rummaging through the refrigerator. I froze trying to decide whether to continue or retreat. As I decided to retreat, I went to pivot and my foot made a terrible noise on the linoleum floor. My sister spun around to see what was going on.

“Lizzy bean, what are you doing up? She asked.

“I can’t sleep. I’m hungry and wanted a snack.” I replied, rubbing my eyes.

My older sister got me something to eat. I noticed that she was having trouble walking and seemed to be unsteady. At the time, I didn’t know that she was high. As she struggled to assemble a peanut butter sandwich, I noticed that Gordie was missing from the counter.

“Did you take my doll?” I said, pointing to the counter.

“Now, why would I want your toys? Those are yours, silly.” She slurred with a goofy smile on her face.

I was confused, but thankful that my snack was not uncooked spaghetti. My sister handed me the sandwich and I sat down at the table to eat it. My legs dangled and swung back and forth. Even though my sister had her own problems, she was much more nurturing than my mom. She came over and swept my hair to one side. She kissed the top of my head and muttered something incoherent. She then staggered off to her room. I happily ate my sandwich and put my plate by the sink. My stomach felt full and my body felt warm.

I ventured back to my room where Gordie sat in the corner. The Gordie doll sat just inches in front of him. He picked up the doll and tossed him in my direction. When I looked at it, a large smile with bright, white teeth had been added to the face. As I studied the new addition, I heard snickers coming from the corner. Gordie sat in the corner and flashed a smile that went from ear to ear. The jagged edges looked like daggers in his mouth.

“What’s so funny?” I whispered.

Gordie didn’t flinch, but continued to snicker.

“That’s not funny, Gordie.” I said.

The laughter stopped and I could only see his eyes again. Before I could say anything else, he darted towards me and put pressure around my neck. I couldn’t breathe. I struggled within the grips of his hands. My feet dangled underneath me searching for something to secure me.

“I’m sorry.” I said, struggling for air.

He continued to grasp my neck as he took me over to my bed. My body flung on the bed and hit the wall that our bunk bed rested against. He released his grip when my mom appeared beside him.

“Lizzy, what do you think you’re doing? It’s the middle of the night.” She looked at the floor with my toys strewn about. “Were you playing? Get out of bed right now.” I stood to my feet as she turned me around and swatted me for my behavior. She told me to get in bed and stay there. The whole time I was being reprimanded, Gordie snickered. Once my mom left the room, tears welled up in my eyes. I wasn’t able to express any of the emotions that I felt because Gordie put his hand over my mouth and I went to sleep.

My insomnia continued throughout my childhood. I saw Gordie each night, and started to form a bittersweet attachment. As I entered into my teenage years, though, Gordie quit coming around. I kept the Gordie doll all throughout childhood and even adulthood. While not all my encounters with him were positive, he became a friend to me in the wee hours of the morning growing up. It was one of the only consistent things in my life.

Since the last time I saw Gordie, I’ve gotten married and just had a beautiful baby girl six months ago. Her name is Georgia. Like a trooper, she’s sleeping through the night and giving me a chance to catch up on months of sleep. Last night, however, I had the nagging feeling that I couldn’t go to sleep. Now, on those nights, I usually get up and read or knit. As I went into the living room of our home, I heard rustling in Georgia’s room. I assumed she had just woken up. I turned around and went into her bedroom.

As I stepped through her doorway, Gordie had Georgia suspended in the air. I heard the eerily familiar snicker as Gordie turned toward me. Those teeth glistened in the moonlight with a brimming smile. As I went toward the crib, Gordie dropped Georgia and her little body collided with the crib mattress. The light coming through the window showed my Georgia laying in her crib and her entire face was black like rotting, necrotic flesh. As I turned around, Gordie was gone.

When I called 911, I knew that Georgia was already gone. To give us some form of closure, the doctors ruled her death as Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. I knew they didn’t know what happened to her. How could they?

We got home from the hospital early this morning. The first rays of daylight were coming through Georgia’s window. I walked in her room and sat down in the rocking chair. Something black caught my eye in her crib. As I peered over the rail, the Gordie doll lay neatly in Georgia’s place. I picked up the doll and felt the familiar stitching as I stood there sobbing. As I turned the doll over, I saw another name on the doll. The name was Lilith. Distraught and confused, I put the doll back in the crib and left the room.

As I lay in bed tonight, I listen for any movement from Georgia. I try to distract myself with the rhythm of my husband’s breathing. My eyes are getting heavy. Hopefully I’ll be able to sleep. Except, I hear snickering in the hallway.

Submitted September 15, 2017 at 06:26AM by spaswimmer1023 http://ift.tt/2h5AbND nosleep