Sleep

Sleep. Noun. A condition of the body and mind which typically recurs for several hours every night, in which the nervous system is inactive, the eyes closed, the postural muscles relaxed, and consciousness practically suspended. Most love it, they describe it as calming. To them it is their relax time. Not me. Never. Sleep is my fear. My monster under the bed. My shadow in the closet and the whisper in my ear telling me not to turn around. Somniphobia. Why? Because of one little thing. I can't seem to fall asleep yet I keep waking up...

Eleven a.m, gym class. That's where it started. I was about to try out a forward walk-over, anticipation slowly eating me away. I drew a long, determined breath. Only focusing on my heartbeat. I tried to imagine my frame roll through the first position and slowly back to standing when I started heating up. I thought it was the cooling system overdriving until I felt something smooth across my collarbone. Again I was in bed. Again I was irritated by the ineffective blinds for not reducing enough light. It must have been a dream. I thought. Maybe I am excited about gym class? I thought. I couldn't have been more wrong.

It continued. It happened at dinner. Then later that night I sat up from bed with the sun shaping each shadow only to awake again by my brother. He told me he had a nightmare so he spent that morning in my bed until I had to leave for school. I opened the front door with the bitter breeze against my scrawny frame. A firm gust of wind forced me to protect my eyes only so I could wake once more.

I should tell someone. I tried. Schizophrenia. A long-term mental disorder involving a breakdown in the relation between thought, emotion and behaviour, leading to a faulty perception of reality and fantasy. That's what I was diagnosed with. I knew it wasn't true. I wasn't crazy. No doctor could diagnosis.

I thought of searching the web myself. I got nowhere. The closest were night terrors, but even they weren't close to as scary as what I was going through.

I started believing in being a Schizophrenic once I heard the voices. A male. 'Oh, I can't wait!' Were his first words. Almost like a child. His voice chirpy and hopeful. I actually liked this boy I created, he reminded me of my brother. I wished I could've reached into my pool of thoughts and drag him into reality. I wanted to name him, so I did. Sammy. He liked that name. 'I'm so excited!'. I didn't understand so when he asked if I wanted to join him I said no. I should have said yes.

His gentle, innocent voice quickly matured. His voice broke as easily as a twig until it was croaky and raspy. 'Why won't you play with me?' He asked. I couldn't reply. Horror choked me until I was voiceless. Every time I heard his voice I felt like my mouth was stitched. Eventually, he was going to snap. The tension of silence was excruciating. 

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Sleep. Noun. A condition of the body and mind which typically recurs for several hours every night, in which the nervous system is inactive, the eyes closed, the postural muscles relaxed, and consciousness practically suspended. Most love it, they describe it as calming. To them it is their relax time. Not him. Never. Sleep is his fear. The monster under his bed. His shadow in the closet and the whisper in his ear telling him not to turn around. Somniphobia. Why? Because of one little thing. She told him not to. She was rushed, only five syllables came from her petrified voice before she was cut short. "Run-you're-not-dream-ing.".