I like to sleep in the dark, as we all do. Although, for me, that is an understatement. Absolutely no light can creep in my room when it’s time to catch some shuteye. If there is any light, I cannot sleep. If I cannot sleep, I will make it everyone’s problem. So, when this damn suburban city installed a new street light near my house, I knew my sleep would be disturbed.
First night was rough. All I could do was stare at the light that oozed through the curtains of my bedroom window. “I need black out curtains,” I thought out loud. A quick purchase from Amazon that morning and the curtains came in right before it got dark. I didn’t spend another minute waiting. A swift change of my curtains and excitement grew inside of me. I can hear the street light warm up. I have associated the buzz of it turning on as its laughter. It just laughs knowing it’s going to ruin my night. The light starts illuminating. Its smile is blinding. I won’t let it ruin my night this time.
As I prepare myself for a good night’s rest, I hear a knock at my door. I didn’t even get the chance to say “come in’’ as my mom entered the room. “Lucas, honey, did you get any sleep last night? I imagine that street light didn’t help,” she asks this to make sure I won’t make it her problem yet. I notice my hands grip my comforter and I get the urge to choke this bitch out. I loosen my grip. “Yes, mom. These black out curtains should do the trick. Thank you for checking in,” I make sure to answer politely to assure her everything is okay.
Before I go to bed, I take a trip to the bathroom. The reflection from my bedroom mirror startles me from my peripheral, stopping me short. A quick turn allows my eyes to gaze upon the result of just one night of no sleep. Only one night, and my eyes already exhibit the changes. I take notice of my eyes now red, causing quite the contrast with my blue irises. The veins surrounding the irises stretch out, like claws trying to grab hold. Please claw my eyes out.
My face inches closer to the mirror. There are bags under my eyes, carrying the weight of exhaustion. My breath fogs my view, causing a distorted view of my face. As the fog disappears, I notice a smile. Once white, my teeth are now yellow. I push the bottom half of my face in to take a closer look. I hook my finger to the inside of my cheek and pull to get a better look. I now notice something else. My teeth look sharper, with tips resembling daggers. As I take a deep breath, a growl lets out. I bounce back from the mirror. I take one last look at myself and decide against the bathroom. I go to bed, hoping to catch up on sleep.
Another failed attempt to sleep. Even with the black out curtains, my brain has taken notice of the light and won’t shut down. And that buzzing, it kept going all night. How can anyone sleep with that racket? And my parents with their constant trips to the bathroom? If I heard that light switch one more time, I would go in there and bash their heads in. Their ears would be bitten off just so they can experience an ounce of the pain from hearing the light switch and the buzzing. Next, I would hook their eyes out with my fingers. Though their painful screams would muffle the buzzing, I could drown their bodies in scalding hot water, a similar pain to what my body feels with the lack of sleep. Just the thought gives me chills.
“You okay, bud? You look tired,” my dad asks as I find myself at our breakfast nook, trying to eat a bowl of cereal. I don’t remember sitting down to eat, let alone leave my bed. With his hand on my shoulder, my dad continues by asking, “are you getting sleep?” Sleep? Are you fucking kidding me? Am I getting sleep? Are you getting sleep, you fucking buffoon? No, how can you sleep with your fucking bladder causing you to go to the bathroom every minute, making so much noise with that light switch? What a couple of fucking geniuses I belong to.
“Lucas? Your breathing awfully heavy,” his last question snaps me back to focus. I then say “I’m fine. Sleep has been hard with that new street light.” My response motions my dad to let go of my shoulder. I notice my voice sounds hoarse. I’m not sure, but I thought I heard a growl as he kept his hand on me. Footsteps motion me to look behind and realize my dad is walking away. I turn back around towards my breakfast. Those same footsteps are heard approaching me. “Try this,” my dad says. An eye mask is placed next to the bowl of cereal.“Okay, thanks,” I speak with uncertainty of his idea, and a mouthful of cereal.
It isn’t the lights anymore. How did I ever sleep with all this noise? I need to make the buzzing stop. They’re laughing at my torture. I suffer and all they do is laugh. Please, let me sleep. Just let me sleep. “JUST LET ME SLEEP,” I yell. Two sets of footsteps rush over to my bedroom door. I hear it open, causing me to grind my teeth. “Lucas, is everything alright here? We heard you yell,” my dad says. “Yeah, we are getting worried about you,” my mom adds. I respond with silence. All I could hear was laughing. I swear I heard my parents laugh too.
The next day, I didn’t leave my room. I sat on the floor beside my bed. My eyes look around and I find my mirror. I decide to crawl over and see what almost a week of no sleep has done to me. My skin is now turning a sort of gray, as if I am losing grip of my lifeforce. My nails look dirty, like I have been digging my own grave. That would probably end everything. I chuckle at the thought. My eyes are red, not completely, but the blue is barely noticeable anymore. The blue almost seems black. As I continue to examine myself, my door opens. “Son, you need to get out of this room,” dad says with a stern tone. I continue to look at the mirror. My eyes focus on his reflection. “Get out,” I whisper. “What did you say? I need you to repeat that,” there is anger in his voice. “I said, get the fuck out,” I continue looking at his reflection. He then takes a few steps into my room and turns on the light. I turn my face and rush him on all fours screaming, “GET OUT!” He steps back as one hand turns off the light, and the other shuts the door. I can’t do this anymore.
That night, I try to sleep naked. The touch of my clothing made me uncomfortable. My skin itches. I lay in bed, trying not to move. I didn’t get the chance to draw the curtains to block the light, or use the eye mask. I stared directly at the street light. I need the dark.
Without a second thought, I got up to leave my room. A glance at my mirror was made before I left. Now naked, my body was exposed. My reflection didn’t even look like me anymore. My arms, my legs, they almost seem elongated. My eyes do not look red, but now black. My eyes could be fooling me. It doesn’t matter.
I sneak past my parent’s bedroom and head straight for our side door. Now in our driveway, my eyes are set on the street light. A rock comes into view as I approach my enemy. Tonight, my enemy dies. I grab the rock with a firm grip. Slowly, I inch closer to the light. Once I reach an appropriate distance, I wind back with the rock. I smile back at the street light as it shines. The rock is thrown and I manage to hit the street light exactly where I wanted. The light goes out, and so does the laughter. Now, I am the one laughing.
Now crouched on the floor, my laughter roars throughout my street. It’s over, I can sleep now. My fists pound on the floor in celebration. My head then tilts back to look at the moon, the only light I will befriend.
My celebration stops short as a sound cuts through the sound of my laughter. The buzzing starts again. I look up to find that it is not the streetlight. Across the street, my neighbors have turned on their porch light. My hands begin to cover my ears. I hear them yelling “what is going on out there? Looks like someone put out the street light.” Now in panic, I notice more porch lights turning on. A twig snaps. I look behind me and notice that I was followed. Neighbors begin to step out of their houses. As they notice me, I let out a roar and attempt to run back home.
A set of footsteps is heard following my direction. I look behind and notice my dad with a phone. “I saw what you did,” he yells, “just you wait.” I run back inside the house through the side door. “Just let me get to the safety of my room,” I thought. My mom blocks the path. “Jeff, I have it trapped,” she announces with her hands on opposite walls of the hallway. Dad steps inside the house and asks “where’s Lucas?” My panic heightens. Don’t they know it’s me, their son? I just want to sleep. Please, just let me sleep. As I turn around to face my dad again, he takes a picture with his flash on and says “I got you.”
I wake up. I realize I fell asleep. As I get myself up from bed, I notice I have a headache. What a dream I had. My clock reads 2 PM and I am unsure what day it is. An urge to go to the bathroom gets me on my feet. My reflection stops me and I hesitate to look directly at the mirror. I decide against it and move towards the bathroom.
Opening my bedroom door, I hear the sound of the shower running. My urge to pee forces me to knock on the door to find out how long they are going to be. A sudden feeling of wetness makes me jump. There is a puddle of water near the bathroom door. I turn the hallway light on and immediately turn it off. The sight of red was seen in the puddle of water in the brief second the light was on. My eyes follow the puddle to the bathroom door, which is slightly ajar.
Steam escapes the bathroom. “Mom, dad,” I called out. No response. My hands start to shake as I reach for the door. A small push is made and my eyes widen at the sight in front of me. There is blood all over the floor. My parents are in the tub, showered in what looks to be very hot water. Though they are missing their heads, I know that it’s them. Small sounds of water splashing are heard as I take a few steps inside the bathroom. With a flick of the light switch, all is seen. My eyes wander to all the blood that has been spilled throughout this room. I turn the shower off. My mind realizes quickly that my dream was not a dream. This was a living nightmare. As I turn around to process what I have just witnessed, my body freezes. Their heads are screwed into the light bulbs that illuminate this room. Their eyes are missing, and their mouths form a smile. The buzzing of the lights is all I hear. Add this with the heads of my parents, and there is a face to the sound. There is a face to the laughter. My hands cover my eyes and I rush back to bed. I scream, wishing it was still a dream. My eyes close and I continue to scream. Please, just let this be a dream.