Creepypastas

Why Sarah Never Sleeps

"Please," the door said in a young girl's voice. "Please, are you Sarah?"

Sarah opened her mouth to respond, but her voice crackled when she couldn't find the breath to speak. Shaking all over, she struggled to calm down enough to answer. She pressed her palms to her cheeks and smeared away the tears as she forced herself to take a breath and speak.

"Yes," she said at length, her voice tremulous and weak. ". . . I'm Sarah."

"Please, let me in!" The door's silvery knob shook violently, rattling as if locked, and jostled by someone on the other side. "Let me in, Sarah, please! I can't stay in here, please help me! Let me in!"

Sarah stared at the door in shock, backing away a moment before her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, where she screamed.

Level with the shadowy keyhole below the rattling knob, she stared directly into a very human eye. Wide and white with fear, it darted around, as if searching through the hall, but seemed not to see her. Tears shimmered in the other eye, as they shimmered and spilled from Sarah's. Then the silver knob stilled, and the keyhole became shadow, and Lizzie began to cry.

"Please, Sarah," she pleaded. "He's almost here."

"The Hollow Man?" Sarah whispered as a chill slithered up her spine. Lizzie sobbed quietly. Sarah scooted closer to the door, fear allowing room for tentative concern when the girl from the other side failed to respond. "Lizzie?"

Silence came without warning, and concern became sharp fear again.

"Lizzie?!" Sarah sat up on her knees with both hands braced against the door. She trembled under the weight of growing horror as not even a sniffle or a whimper came from the other side. "Lizzie, please answer me!"

Sarah's head and heart ached, each throbbing painfully through her tension, and the world was a little fuzzy around the edges; it was getting hard to focus.

"He's here . . ." Lizzie whispered at last. Her words were barely audible, and came as though her lips pressed tight against the keyhole. "Please, let me in . . . ."

Though she still hesitated, her hand was upon the silver knob before she even realized it.

"Please, Sarah . . . ."

Rising from the floor, she turned it.

The door opened noiselessly beneath her hand, gliding open without resistance. As it did, she cautiously peeked around the edge.

A lonely expanse of normal wall inched into view, and she felt sick. She worried at her thumb in confusion, and extended a trembling hand to touch the wall behind the door. It was solid. As solid and as normal as the wall at the end of the upstairs hall should be, but her stomach churned.

Something wasn't right.

She closed the door, which issued a soft click as the latch sprang into place, and waited. She hardly dared to move or breathe as she listened to the night, waiting for the door to speak again. When her muscles ached, and her eyes were heavy with sleep, she finally relented. Fatigue sucked at her limbs — she hadn't realized how exhausting fear could be until the last traces of adrenaline had finally bled away–, and though she didn't look forward to her dreams, she simply had to sleep.

The crimson clock was broken when she rolled herself into bed, its face declaring 12:16 AM to a room that only vaguely felt familiar, but she couldn't bring herself to care when her eyes and body felt so heavy.

"Sarah . . . ," Lizzie whispered. But it couldn't be a whisper.

"Sarah," Lizzie whispered again. "Sarah, don't wake up."

Sarah groaned a little. Don't wake up? But she hadn't even fallen asleep.

"Don't wake up," Lizzie said, her voice echoing in Sarah's mind.

Sarah frowned, and rolled on her back. She didn't want to wake up. She wanted to sleep! Don't wake up, don't wake up. Lizzie didn't need to tell her not to wake! It was the furthest thing from her mind!

For a long time all was silence, and Sarah began to drift toward the strange warmth of sleep.

"He's here . . . ," Lizzie whispered at last. "Please, don't wake up . . . . "

Who's here? Sarah wondered as sleep pulled her further down.

"His hollow face, an eerie mask. With hollow voice at doors will ask. To be invited in to bask. Above his favored midnight task."

A strange tingling worked its way up her body as Lizzie recited the haunting rhyme in a disconcerting monotone. Clarity inched its way toward Sarah, slowly melting away the fog of sleep. Wasn't she still dreaming?

Something was wrong.

"He's waiting inches from your face. To be the first thing your eyes grace. But keep them shut, or else embrace. A hollow shell to take your place."

Cold dread seized Sarah's heart with each new stanza, and she trembled with the weight of her mistake. For a moment, she swore she could feel the air stir above her, stale and strangely warm against her cheeks. Don't wake up! Don't wake up! She squeezed her eyes closed extra tight to keep them from opening, slowly surfacing from her vivid night terrors at last.

"The yellow door, you always keep. He follows you to where you sleep. Into your room he then will creep. Your life and dreams for him to reap."

Lizzie's voice became little more than a breath within Sarah's mind, and a pressure lifted from her chest when the air cooled around her. What had she done?

"The Hollow Man, above your bed. With hollow eyes, deep slumber fed. His hollow dreams may fill your head. But never peek, or you'll be dead."

Everything was wrong.

Distantly, Sarah registered the sound of her parents screaming in their room, and felt tears sliding down her cheeks. Why did they sound so far away?

". . . Mom," Sarah whispered, the sound paper-thin. "Dad," she rasped with a voice like dried leaves. "Lizzie?" She thought, probing for her presence, but Lizzie did not respond.

Silence fell over the house and Sarah knew nothing would ever be right again.

From the hall outside her bedroom door, Sarah heard the soft click as a latch sprang into place, and waited.

Several hours passed before she felt safe enough to open her eyes. Sunlight peeked through the curtains, and the crimson clock said it was 7:45 AM. The yellow door, with it's mirror-ball knob, stared at her from the wall at the end of the upstairs hall.

And Sarah knew she would never sleep again.