Each night I remember it. It happened a long time ago. As I go to bed each night I feel that excruciating pain. Some people don’t believe me. Some times I believe what they say just so I can try and forget at least one second but I cannot. Every kid has his own fear. It can be the dark or when you go to bed or you think someone will violate your house, find your bedroom and after the stealing process you see your face on a milk carton. My own fear is from the closet.
My father is dead. He has been dead for a long time. People think he went missing. The truth is he was killed, in my own room. He had come into my room because I yelled. I was young but my fear was looking me right in the eye. He said there is no such thing as the boogey man. Then he fell. On the ground he was dragged to my closet door. It shut behind him. I heard his screams…nothing. I heard my heartbeat…Thump, Thump, Thump.
To this day some people still think I am crazy as I tell them 20 years later. Today I’m seeing that dark silhouette in my room when I go to bed. Each night he knows that I see him and he smirks. I have to get rid of him before he decides to do the same to me.
Now he becomes impatient for me. I have angered him for a reason I do not know of. He now calls for me in my dreams and when I wake I hear him like the wind. He whispers and whooshes his dirty messages. “Patrick…” I stay awake in fear for my own life. He threatens me now. He calls my name again, again, again and again. My perennial thoughts beat through my head like an angry drummer. I cannot take it anymore. I lose my head as I vociferate in anger and fear. "God Dammit, get out of my head and leave me alone!" I lose my breath and stop. I hear my heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. “Do you remember that… the night when I murdered your lowlife father.” I realize he is toying with me. In my own anger I jump out of bed cursing and open the closet door and fall in stupidity. I see my untouched clothes and shoes. Minutes pass as I get up and go to my bed. I am just getting in the bed as I take my pillow and throw it against the door. Abruptly my sheets lift up and the pillow lifts up and both are aloft and circling the ceiling. He now shouts, “PATRICK COME AND PLAY!”. I jump out of bed and sprint into the closet.
It feels like I’m either falling or floating because there is no ground beneath me. I see the silhouette and its sly sneer in front of me. “Never forget and always remember.”
I land on my bed. The bed made well enough for a military inspection. It is glowing outside and I hear birds. Then I hear my heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump.