||Demons..

I wake up in the middle of the night, disoriented, expecting to find a study table next to my bed, my Pooh cushion somewhere nearby and my laptop next to my pillow streaming downloads. Instead I'm lying in a double bed, diagonally nonetheless, hogging as much space as a slender twenty-one year old kid like me possibly can. I unlock my phone screen, blink twice to adjust my eyes to its brightness and look at the time. Its literally the middle of the night, three am on the dot. I try to think what woke me up.

The last thing I can remember before I drifted off to restless dreamland is my choked nose. I remember skipping dinner to my parents' utter dislike, but the cold made me want to rest more than anything else, more than wanting to have home-made food. I detest going to see a doctor, so I tend to ignore trivial ailments like a common cold (too common in my case, gets invited every time the weather changes) like they are ladybugs on a flower. Creepy, red with black polka dots, I-can-annoy-you-by-just-being-there ladybugs. So I slept, missing my favorite show being aired on television and turning a blind eye to my constantly vibrating phone.

I'm now fiddling with my phone, reading but not really reading the messages, just wanting to get rid of the unread icon. I try to think back and recollect what I was dreaming about, how gruesome was it this time. My eyes fall on the neon stickers on the cupboards and the sight of Pooh comforts me. My eyes scan the top of the cupboard, trying to eliminate any possibility of a woman or carcass clad in white with her blood thirsty tongue sticking out, just in case. Then I drop my clutcher to the floor, to see if a monster crawls out from under the bed. When nothing happens, I take a deep breath and let the fact that I really am awake settle in, so I can calm down.

I try to think hard, I didn't wake my parents with my screaming so it probably wasn't a monster dream after all. I chuckle at the thought of how the dark still scares me as much as it did when I was a child. I try to go back to sleep but in vain. The exams have messed up my routine and sleeping at nights seems like a distant reality. Something hurts, my hand. In the light of the footlamp, I can see blood trickling down my wrist. I panic and switch on the lights. I remind myself to keep my hand folded at the elbow and take a closer look. There are teeth marks on the wound that is oozing blood.

Being a fangirl, vampires are the first thought that enter my mind. A second later, my mind rebukes me for the stupidity of that thought and throws at me the recollection of what happened. I had dreamt of that day, of him. Again. I had seen him leave right in front of my eyes, not knowing I would never see him again. Only this was a dream and I already knew this time. This dream was worse than the monster dreams, it opened floodgates of hurt and pain, every time. Only this time I was half lucid so I'd subconsciously bitten my hand to refrain from crying or screaming out loud. Exasperated, I muttered, 'I am such a weirdo', put on my earphones and blasted Linkin Park in my ears. I closed my eyes and started playing the horrifying scenes of 'The Conjuring' in my head. Anything to stop me from going insane. Anything.