I don’t even know how to start this off. I feel like I’m going nuts over this, or maybe I’m blowing things out of proportion??? Either way, I needed to get this off my chest, so I came here. At least maybe on this, I won’t be seen as a loon.
My sleep schedule has always been uneven. As a kid, I’d always be going to bed at varying times, whether due to taking care of my sick mother or playing Animal Jam on my family’s PC on my free nights. I’d often be sleep deprived which led to an early start on my caffeine addiction. This would often cause what I could only describe as delusions. My imagination was always extremely active, so my brain would create horrific monsters out of coats and chairs in the darkness of my room. The things I would see would always change, but I would always quickly realize that my brain was playing tricks on me, and my mind would settle once again. As I grew older, however, there was one thing that I saw that always remained consistent.
The man was tall, around 6’, and had no defining features. He was all black, a complete silhouette of just a tall average man. I don’t want to describe him as shadowy, because then people would think that he didn’t seem to have an actual physical form. He was three-dimensional, just a complete void instead of features. No matter which house I slept in, my parents were divorced and had joint custody of me, the man would always be in the far left corner of my room. He wouldn’t move, wouldn’t breathe, he would just stand there and just kind of… exist. At first, he scared the living shit out of me. As time went on though, I kind of got used to him. Nights that I couldn’t sleep and he’d be there, I’d ramble to him about things until I could drift off again. Sort of like an imaginary friend, but different considering those disappeared at around age 5 or 6, and here I was at 16 years old talking to the weird shadow man in my room. We were friends in a weird way, and I never minded his company.
That was until about a week ago. I had fallen asleep at around 11 and woke up some couple odd hours later. My eyes took a minute to adjust to the darkness, but when they finally did I had instantly wished I hadn’t opened my eyes at all. The man was on the right side of my room, standing in the corner that was significantly closer to my bed. I could feel my heart thumping wildly, he wasn’t supposed to move. He stays on the left side that was his thing, why the fuck is he not in his corner. I know it seems silly to others, but when something stays the same for a multitude of years and suddenly changes, it can be a little bit unnerving for me. It took me some time, but I finally managed to fight my uneasiness and go back to sleep. Guess my little friend was going through some identity crisis or something because soon he started getting more active. Finding out that he wasn’t a figment of sleep-deprived imagination was a shitty way to start my road trip drive, when I saw him in an alleyway behind a Little Caesars. He started appearing everywhere, any corner I looked the man was there, unmoving. I often asked others if they could see him but to no avail.
He started to feel a lot more sinister, darker. Before he was just a presence taking up space, but now it felt like he was suffocating the room, sucking the energy out of any place he was. I don’t know why he’s doing this, or why he started acting up now, but whatever the reason is I want it to stop. It’s plaguing my mind, my anxiety’s higher than it’s been since middle school. I’m paranoid and jumpy, and often don’t want to be alone. Not with that thing.
The breaking point was last night. It was around 8 pm, I was scrolling through Instagram when I had the sudden urge to glance up at my little pal in the corner. When I did, I dropped my phone and almost shit my pants then and there. He was smiling. Not with razor-sharp teeth or blood oozing out, those would’ve almost been preferred. No, he was smiling with MY smile. I have buck teeth, my canines are abnormally long compared to most, and my gums are slightly receded from not being able to brush my teeth due to depression. It was my smile. No other features, no eyes or nose, just that stupid mocking smile. I called my girlfriend in a panicked frenzy, unable to describe what was happening without sounding crazy. She stayed on the phone all night with me, like the heaven-sent angel she is.
It’s now 10 pm, and that thing is still there with that smile. It’s standing by my dresser, I’m too scared to walk past it. I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid that one day it’s going to be right next to me, it’s gonna hurt me. Everyone’s sent me numbers to numerous therapists, my girlfriends asked if I needed to go on anxiety medication. I know I’m not fucking crazy, I know it’s real. It has to be. I’ll tell you guys any updates that come up.