Sandman's Visit

The clock ticked and the clock tocked yet the Sandman has yet to visit me tonight. I have turned off the lights in my room to help me doze off. It was not completely dark; moon beams shine through my window, as if a car was parked directly outside with its headlights left on. I stare at the ceiling as I lie on my bed. Sooner or later, my eyelids will become heavy; I pray it's sooner.

As the silence fill my room, my ears become more accustomed to the sounds of the night-- quiet rustling of the leaves (whether by wind or animal, I do not know), hissing of the fan as it rotates and revolves, an occasional vehicle passing by, hooting of an owl, laughter outside my-- wait, hoot and laughter? I might have mistaken the hoot for a sound of another bird (for there are no owls in our area) but laughter?

I listened harder. It was faint. There was a shrill laugh, there was a deep laugh. There was a laugh that can be mistaken for crying but I was quite sure that it was a laugh. It was getting louder. There was even a laugh that makes you laugh as well. Then the laughter stopped, as suddenly as it begun. I frowned and decided, though half-heartedly, to sneak a peek.


I got up and peered through my second floor window. With the moon glowing brightly, I'll see whoever was laughing in the dead of night. Sure enough, there were figures gathered by our fence. Correction: on the lot inside our fence. I squinted, looking as hard as I could to see their faces. Strange that there were several cloaked figures by our house, but stranger still was that I was as calm as a cat.

A man with a pointed nose, dark-circled eyes, a grave pale face yet grinning with pearl white teeth turned his head towards my window and looked straight to my eyes. Startled, I dropped to the floor. After a few moments, I stood up again to see if the figures were still there. But they weren't outside anymore. Knitting my brows yet again, I thought-- no, I convinced myself that I must have hallucinated. I am, after all, half-way to sleep. Finally, I decided to crawl back to my bed.

But, as Fate has a dark sense of humor, the bed was gone and hooded figures were all around me whose bright white smiles were stark contrast to the blackness of the surroundings. One by one, they raised their arms and pointed their long and crooked fingers towards me. I smelled burning plastic, but I don't see any fire. There was humming, growing louder as they got closer to me. I shuddered.

Suddenly, I wasn't in my room anymore but under the moon and the stars and the infinite night sky. My pajamas were too thin for the cold air bit my whole body. I was by myself in desert so barren not even a cactus accompanied me. I cried out for help, but I couldn't. No matter how hard I pushed my vocal cords, I can't even squeak for my life My heart raced. I ran far from where I was, but everything looked all the same that it was as if I was only running on a treadmill. Then, out of nowhere, there was a wind so strong it knocked me to the ground and sucked out my breath. I collapsed, but I didn't land on sand.

There was lightning and thunder and rain and wind. The waves go up taller than the ship (a Narnian ship, perhaps?), showering all who were on board with salty seawater. My pajamas were soaked, and so was I, head to toe. I was shivering violently.

I heard orders by the captain (I assumed it was an invisible captain bossing the invisible people around) to secure the thingamajigs and doohickeys. I hear men running about, sometimes sliding on the slippery floor. I hear the ship's horn, loud and deep. My heart sank soon before the ship did. I don't want to die in the middle of the sea!

A wave crashed on the portside, capsizing the ship and I slide and tumble and roll into the depths of the dark waters. I was falling into water. The next minute, I was falling from a the top of a building, which was taller than the Empire, to the traffic below. My vision blurs and I close my eyes, still with the sensation of falling.

I awoke sitting up on my bed before splatting to the ground, panting.

It was five in the morning already, according to my wall clock. Whatever happened was just a dream, the sort which you forget upon waking up. My fast heartbeat and cold sweat on my forehead are the only evidences that something had happened in my sleep. Breathe in. Breathe out. I ordered my body to calm down and my mind to think of happy thoughts. I closed my eyes. About two more hours of sleep and I should get up for a new day.

Note to self: avoid Gaiman's books for a while.