Dont close your eyes

It all started when I watched my first horror movie. My parents weren't that strict on me, but them looking after their little girl, they made sure to let their favorite 9 year old daughter stick with Disney and cartoon movies. Curiosity killed the cat. Or so I watched. Any horror movies my parents wouldn't let me watch, I would sneak the DVD into my room, then late at night I would scare myself by playing it on my small princess themed T.V. I grew up watching Saw, Hostel, and admiring all of Rob Zombies films. I don't know what was wrong with me, but I had a fascination with blood, guts, and death. The thought of the pain they want to show, the idea of there being evil out to get us, or the unknown afterlife we call death made my 9 year old self obsessed. Although I would watch horror movies all my life, I still would end up being scared at the end. my mom would find out I was watching her horror movies from me visiting her in the night saying I was scared from the previous movie I watched that day. Thorn, age 9 I woke up from a dead sleep with a gasp. I felt an odd presence in my tiny room that made me so scared that it woke me out of the strong clutches of my dreamless sleep I was stuck in. I looked around my dark, pink princess room to see if there was actually something lurking in the shadows that I feared. There is someone in here.. My tiny hands clutched my floral blankets to my chest as I started breaking out in a cold sweat. My bed being squished against the back corner gave a full view of the 9 year old's princess room. My window next to my bed had the curtains drawn, so I can see the cloudless night sky and my ugly dirt backyard from my second floor room. The moon gave just enough light so I can barely see the outlines of my room. The around the world dolls my mom collects for me are all aligned nicely on a high shelf that circles the entirety of the room. they all stare blankly at each other above my head, silently ignoring my questioning glances around my room. My door was always open, so I stared out into the dark hallway. Even at a young age, I knew the saying, If you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss stares back at you. I focused my eyes, long enough to where my eyes started seeing little shapes. Freaked out the shapes might actually be real, I focused back on my room. The uneasy feeling still hasn't left my little body. Looking into my vanity mirror across from my bed, I stared at my reflection, only to see a scared little Mexican girl stare right back. I took a few seconds just to stare at myself. I'm not scared. I'm not scared. I'm not scared. I repeated my mantra over and over till I felt confident enough that I was safe and sound in my bed. As I lower my body to lay back down, my eyes caught something black right at the top where my mirror cut off the reflection. I snapped my body back up, like the dead popping up from the grave, to look back in the mirror. I check to see if there was anything there. I looked up, I leaned forward, and just in case I leaned side to side. Nothing Sighing, I go to lay down once more and just as I was about to be swept under by sleep, I felt a slight movement right next to me. "Smile' My eyes snap open and I turn my head to the right, facing my wall. I was paralyzed. I called him Tom. Most of the time he was just a shadow I would imagine lurking in the darkest corners of my room and bathroom. When I would try to focus on his face, I would only see that he has a skeletal face that had a painfully ripped grin. his face was full of leathery wrinkles, eyes on the verge of popping out of their sockets, a damn near balding head and only 5 rotted blackened yellow teeth remained in his horrifying mouth. His head was laying on my pillow, his face to close to mine where I can barely make out the rest of his head. without breaking his overly stretched grin, he started breathing heavily, like a person with asthma struggling for breath. His rank, hot breath fanned against my face, moving my baby hairs back and forth with each inhale and exhale he took. it was like I was having Sleep paralysis. my whole bod was frozen in fear, hes never come this close, only perversely lurked from the shadows across the room. his face got closer to mine, if that was even possible. my body was shaking with the strain to move. Then he stopped. His rotted mouth opened wide, while his almost white, wide tongue fell out of it. Drool started pooling off of his tongue onto my bedsheets. I started whimpering; just before he took both of his boney, cold hands and held my face in place. He jerked his head forward, so his disgusting tongue flung and landed on my face with a wet slap. Slowly, he slid his flat, molding tongue up the length of my face; leaving a wet trail over the majority of my face. Finally out of my paralysis, I closed my eyes and screamed bloody murder. My dad, being the PTSD veteran he was, came rushing down the hall and into my room with the flashlight he kept on his nightstand and the gun he keeps under his bed. 'WHATS WRONG?!!" Opening my eyes back up, Tom was gone. Shaking, I slowly turned over on my bed, tears streaming down my face. My face hurt, being contorted from cries, my mom calls it my ugly crying that only happens when im truly sad or deathly terrified. My dad goes to check around my room for any impeding threat, while my mom rushes in after seeing my face. She sits on my bed and hugs my, trying to stop her daughter from dry heaving at this point. She holds at arms length and stares at my face. "Thorn, why is your face all wet?' "Did you seriously drool all over your face again?" Hearing my mother say this, my dad stops his thorough search and looks at both of us. " Again?" My face heated, I drool pretty badly in my sleep, but will the believe me if I told them the truth? "I think I had sleep paralysis again." I whimpered to my mom, her wiping my face with my sheets. They looked at each other and sighed. my dad mumbling hes going back to bed. my mom turned to me, " you need to stop watching so much horror movies, Thorn." "BUT MO-'' "Don't argue with me Thorn,'' she stands, walks over to my DVD player and hits eject. A copy of one of my favorite gore movies, Vile, slowly slides out of the machine. "Its not real, so go to sleepy. You bring this on yourself." With that said, she turns around, and starts to walk out. She then grabs my door handle, closing my door as she walks out in a huff. Leaving me in total darkness with my torturing imaginations. Panic starts to build as I feel the heavy darkness press in on me. I jump out of bed and run as fast I can to my door. Feeling around for the light switch, I hear Toms heavy Breathing from the place where I just came from. Fumbling around in the dark, I'm running my hands furiously all around the wall trying to find the switch while his breathing gets closer. As my hand grazes the plastic lining on my wall, his hot breath is right between the crook of my ear and shoulder. I flip the switch and light floods my vision. I spun around to see the wall behind me. Nothing. Im not gonna get any sleep tonight. This is a regular occurrence. I get sleep paralysis maybe once or twice a month, when I get so scared from my episode, I wont sleep for the remaining weeks. Today is not gonna be any exception. Leaving my overhead light on, I walk to my white knight stand and open the top drawer. Reaching my tiny hand to the back of the cluttered drawer, I pull out my hidden Nyquil. I know, I know, what 9 year old does this, hiding and taking drugs to help her sleep? I have to. My parents get mad at me when I cant sleep, thinking I stay up late all night watching tv or movies I shouldn't be watching. This helps me force myself to sleep through the night, so I don't go through the day with circles under my eyes or falling over and passing out from lack of sleep. You learn a lot from horror movies, and any other adult film. I know enough that too much will kill me, I've seen a couple of movies where the main character would drink a lot of it to peacefully kill themselves. I should only take the same amount as I would as if I were sick. So, I press down and twist the cap off the dark bottle. I take a swing, recap it, and shove it back into the depths of my cluttered drawer. Now I sit and wait. I lay on my back and stare at my ceiling. I wait for maybe an hour or two where I feel my eyes start to go cross eyed. my vision starts to blur and mix together until I don't remember even closing my eyes. I pass out to peaceful nothing. But not before I hear a small, gravelly giggle from far away.