Bedtime

A woman struggles with sleep

Bloodshot eyes raked over the bold black words on the screen, glowing brighter than the center of the sun behind each dark grammar point. As her eyelids dipped, the words ran together in a slurring mess of mismatched phrases.

From the back of this dark room where her bed lie, a misty purple light throbbed from beneath the frame. Esoteric whispers lured her from the depths, the same sounds she recalled from childhood. The ones that sent her sprinting into her parents bedroom at 2 am. No matter where she moved, or how many bed frames she purchased, the glowing and the whispers never ceased.

But they weren’t so bad, she realized.

Never did a slimy tentacle slither up the edge of the mattress and curl around her ankle. Never did sharp teeth and red eyes stare back at her when she searched for a lost sock. No, just a gentle chant of echoed wisdom, and a deep purple hum. 

"sssss ssaaa ssss daaa" 

Like the forgotten prayers of ancient tribes or the possessions of spirits from the beyond. An untrained ear could only hear the unstressed consonants. 

"In a minute" She said back to the ambient voices.

The light grew, casting shadows on the floor and against the wall. Images of twisting limbs, an interpretive dance made of moonlight and insomnia, in beat with every uttered sound, indistinguishable by gender or age. Timeless. Voiceless. 

She got their message loud and clear, but she had so much more work to do. She sighed as she peered back at the shadows the light cast.

"Okay, okay." She gave up, shutting the laptop closed and dragging herself into bed. She snuggled deep into the covers as the light went back to its soft, dim hue and the voices only a frightening murmur. The dark mist coiled up and around her body, warming her into the bones.

"You, too." She smiled into her pillow as the hum carried on into the night.