I'm having trouble falling asleep again.
I grunt in the middle of the night, struggling to close my eyes against the numbness. Lying here is the only 'productive' thing I can do.
What's wrong with me?
Why am I back at square one?
The question bombards my mind over and over, forcing me to reflect on the things keeping me from getting any sleep. The old man? My job? My diet? Smoking habits? Abigail? Or...
I shake my head at that last thought, pushing it away. With a groan, I sit up from the mattress and drag myself to the kitchen, just to get a glass of water.
"If only Mother was here-"
"..."
Get it together.
I quickly drink the water and return to bed, plopping down and pulling the blanket over myself. Maybe Morpheus cursed me. Typical. Yeah, I'm that kind of person—the one who hates the idea of work and feeds myself knowledge of whatever mythology I can get my hands on. If I could magically maneuver my medical career, I'd be more than happy.
Now it's 2:15 AM.
"It's been that long already? I'm still awake..." I wailed.
I can't take it anymore.
Someone help.
Help me.
Help me, I need this.
I want to rest.
Just some shut-eye.
Please-
Whoosh.
A plangent noise fills the room, making me tense up. I glance around, feeling antsy. I'm alone, and of course, that makes me nervous. But this isn't what I need right now. Had the room always been this breezy?
It's getting a little cold for my liking.
"Whoever you are... I don't have anything. Not even a dime.." I utter as if compromising with the imaginative burglar. Peeking around once more, seeing no one, I take a deep breath and exhale. Maybe it's just the stress messing with my sleep. These deafening loud noises and voices overwhelm me. My mental state is deteriorating more than I realized. When will I ever feel like I'm sleeping above a cloud?
Surprisingly, I feel my foot being caressed by an unfamiliar texture of touch.
I jolt at the strange sensation, sitting up abruptly and glancing toward the tip of my bed.
"Goodness.. you are a vigorous one." The figure, who seems to be some sort of phantom, gazes at me with ardent eyes, staring intently.
"M.. w.. h.. huh.." I was so frightened that I couldn't speak coherently.
Am I seeing a ghost?
The flow of my breath hitched, my soul about to jump out of my body. A ghost! I'm seeing a ghost!! I'm an insomniac, and now it has given me a third eye!!! As if my sleepless nights had unlocked some surreal ability.
No, no, no, no, no. I want to sleep, not the Grim Reaper putting me to sleep!
I couldn't help but examine the 'ghost' first, trying to get over my fright and stay composed. The so-called poltergeist remained still, gaping at me and my baffled expression. The dusk of night made the phantom even more intimidating, its eye color glaring—a rotten lilac.
Its hair is jet black, the blackest of them all, with a disheveled appearance it surrounds. His skin is dulled, lusterless. Expected from the dead. Or is he?
His enigmatic figure was draped in an unusual cloak, concealing his entire form from view.
In all honesty though, the thing in front of me... looks extraordinary. In a good way.
No.
I shouldn't think that. This is a weird situation we're talking about right now!
I pinched myself. Not a dream.
Oh, God, it's not a dream!
A gazed at the figure once more. It was too dark to see his entire face.
"Who are you?! Get the hell out of my house!" I grab the vase near the bedside table and hurl it straight at the strange man's head. But the moment his hand blocks it, the vase disintegrates into sand, slipping through his fingers as if it had never been solid at all.
Sand? What kind of sorcery is this?!
"What the fu-"
The figure frowned, cutting me off. "I suggest you do not do that again."
I sit back quietly as the figure suddenly starts making hand gestures and chanting, completely unanticipated.
"You're still not..." It muttered, about to have a fit of rage. "This is unacceptable."
My anxiety grew with every passing second as I struggled to piece together what was happening. Would it kill the Gods above to give me at least one single NORMAL event?
It was a sight straight out of a fantasy—something I could hardly fathom.
"Unacceptable? What are you talking about? What do you want from me?" I ask. The ghost likely understands me, based on my observation just minutes ago.
There was a moment of silence. It glowered at me, as if I had dared to deny its very existence. I cleared my throat.
"The first time I'll introduce myself to such a human - one who ruins the way their body restores itself in consciousness, no matter how hard I try."
"What?" I lifted my head. "Ruin my body?"
"Dreams. You're wasting good dreams."
"I... how am I wasting- oh, yeah, about that. I just can't sleep at all, don't you see?" I struggled to process what I had witnessed.
"And if you are not as human as myself, what are you?"
"That would be confidential. Soon enough you'll forget about me when I do this."
He swiftly reached into his pocket… and before I could react, he flung a handful of sand straight into my eyes. A sharp sting shot through them, and I recoiled instinctively, blinking furiously against the sudden discomfort.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓༓･*˚⁺‧͙ *+:｡.｡ ｡.｡:+*
"Ow!" I yelped, rubbing off the debris from my eyelids.
"It stings! What was that for?!"
"It didn't work? Let me try again."
"Ow, stop it, I swear if I go blind!" Now my eyes are watering, and red.
"Why.. you're impossible!" The ghoul's face contorts. The audacity to get mad at me as well. "You're not an ordinary person, you have a nightmarish lifestyle that I can't even put you to sleep!"
"What does that even mean?! At least elaborate it clearly to me!" I've had enough. Gripping my phone tightly, I turn on my flashlight and shine it directly at the creeper.
The figure hissed sharply and took a step back. "Get that light out of my visage!"
"I won't - not until you tell me who you are and what you want from me."
It groans heavily.
Without warning, the figure transformed into a swirl of sand, the particles twisting and whirling right before me. My breath caught as I watched them reform, solidifying back into their original shape. Then suddenly, its face—pale lips and all—was mere inches from mine. I held my breath...
.
.｡
o○
○o｡ .
.
"I am the..." He whispered. "Sandman."
My eyes enlarged.
The disbelief only grew stronger as the entity introduced himself as the Sandman. A mix of fear and curiosity swirled within me, and all I could manage in a hushed tone was, "The... Sandman..? That's... quite a name."
"It's not a name. It's a title. I am yet to be distinguished, but that's not important for the time being." With a stern countenance, he added, "You've been making me so upset with your sleep deprivation, that I had to personally inquire with you."
I sit in my room, grappling with my sleep problems. It all feels so strange, like a fever dream. I wish it were just a fantasy.
The clock's ticking slowly.
"Do you comprehend the significance of my contributions to this planet? Yet, your actions are creating chaos within my realm of work." It felt akin to receiving a reprimand from a disagreeable father figure.
Again with the old man.
I need to forget about him.
I have to focus on this... dream—that is probably not a dream—but I'm not sure of it either.
"Are you saying something you do is my fault?" I emphasized.
"It's not ideal to be argumentative right now. I have a commitment to my duty as the Sandman, and it means having difficult people like you go to sleep. It is a big deal. If I don't help you, I'll be negligent."
The situation has become more serious now.
I understand the concerns, only that there's still a long way to go before I perfect my schedule of sleep. And there's Abigail's advice to consider.
"So you're telling me.. what you did earlier was trying to make me doze off?" I cross my arms in incredulity. "How can I sleep with that thing getting thrown in my eyes?!"
"Well, I wasn't supposed to throw it. You're just a feisty one. Remember that vase?"
That was for self-defense, wasn't it? "Anyone would do the same if they were in my shoes. I thought I was gonna get killed by a paranormal ghost-thingy like you."
"Like I said, not a ghost. Sandman." He rolls his eyes. This banshee's got attitude. "And besides, your routine is killing you instead. I'm here to assist you. Despite my magic, you're ridiculously the last man standing. Or not sleeping."
Now that's just plain mockery.
"Okay, I get it. You don't have to rub it on me." A frustrated sigh escapes from me. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I can't. And it's been haunting me for months. Believe me.."
The Sandman gives me a pitiful glance. Hearing the desperation in my voice, he softly replies…
"No matter. I will do everything in my power to make you fall asleep. It could take a lot of time though... since it's an uncommon problem that I've encountered."
"How long do you think it will take?" A touch of hope in his voice.
"I'll look into it. I have to go now..."
Strangely enough, I didn't want the thing to leave.
Is it months of loneliness causing this feeling? It's harmless, and I haven't had company like this ever since...
I stopped, focusing back on Mr. Sandman.
"What? Why? Where?"
"It's almost dawn. The daylight isn't my stronghold." said the Sandman. "But rest assured..."
"... I'll be back for you."
My chest aches in mystification.
And he vanished.