Loop

A nightmare that is real, a dream which is not a dream. A never-ending night that plays on loop.

Photo: Mat Reding | www.pexels.com

It’s late at night – well past midnight perhaps. The fan is moving lazily with a soft drawl. It needs fixing but I like the sound. I prefer it to the unnerving silence.

The full moon should have cast soft silvery shadows in our small room. But instead, it chooses to hide behind the high rise next to our house.

I hear the soft hoot of an owl – probably from the army camp behind our house. A lonely dog is barking on the street outside. My parents are asleep on the bed; my father snoring gently. My brother is sprawled on the mattress next to me. It's dark under the bed. Strange shapes and shadows. I can’t see anything. I’m wide awake, sweating.

I’ve woken up from a terrible nightmare. Someone was following me but every time I turned, all I saw was an empty road. I remember running, trying to reach home before I was caught. I want to pee but I’m terrified of getting up.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness, the room comes into focus. The curtains sway gently in rhythm with the movement of the fan. My doll is sitting on the sofa, exactly where I left her. Her right leg dangles awkwardly and her head is bent, as if she too is in deep sleep.

My mother turns on her side and sighs gently. I wait for her to wake and ask me if I am okay. She continues sleeping. I hear the faint tick tick tick of the clock but I can’t see the time. I turn on my side, pull my blanket under my chin and try to fall back asleep.

Just as my eyes close, I hear something. A shuffle… No. A soft dragging sound accompanied by a shuffle. It’s coming from the driveway. I stay still, blanket up to my chin, ears straining to identify the sound. A person is dragging something very heavy. Pull, silence and then two steps.

It is rhythmic. Swishhhhhh. Pause. Step Step.

I cover my ears with the pillow. I’m hearing things. No one is outside. There is no sound. I concentrate on my breathing and keep my eyes shut.

The sound grows louder. There is a large thump! The heavy object has been discarded.

Shuffle. Soft steps.

Someone is walking towards our room door. I am terrified. The owl hoots again. The dog starts howling. I want to wake my mother up, but can’t move.

The person walks up to our room door and stops. Silence. 

I wait. Silence. I must have imagined it.

Then I hear heavy breathing. I don’t know if it’s mine or someone else’s. The breathing gets louder. Someone knocks on the door. Three soft taps.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Pause.

I wait.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Pause.

A shuffle.

Silence.

Our door is locked. The little keyhole that allows a slim ray of light from the foyer goes dark, as if someone is looking through it. Searching. I hear fabric rustling. Silence. Then a voice whispers in my ear, feminine, soft and lilting, in a tone that adults use to talk to little children, Lailaaaaa, let me in…

My eyes fly open. It’s the middle of the night. An owl is hooting somewhere. A lonely dog is barking. My parents are asleep on the bed. My brother is sprawled next to me on the mattress. It was a dream; I tell my thundering heart. I reach for my mother’s hand which has fallen to the side of the bed. I feel her warm skin. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

I listen to the silence in the room. The soft hum of the fan. The gentle breathing of my family. I sit up to take a sip of water from the bedside table. And then I hear a noise. A soft thud as if someone is dragging something very heavy across the floor. It’s coming from the driveway.

There is shuffling, a few steps, the light appears behind the keyhole.

Silence.

I pull the blanket over my head and wait. I feel a weight behind me as if someone is settling into the mattress. I dare not move. Fabric rustles. I feel her wet breath against my ear. Her soft hair tickles my cheek. She strokes my hair, her hand chilly and damp. My mattress feels wet.

She chuckles.

Lailaaaaa, you should have let me in…

The fan stops working. Power cut.

My mother wakes up with a groan.

“Mama?” I ask softly.

“Why are you awake Laila?”

“Bad dream…”

  Pause.

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Of course. Come up on the bed.”

She hugs me, one hand under my neck and the other gently stroking my hair. Her breath feels wet against my ear. Her soft hair tickles my cheek. I try to turn but she stops me. Her hands are cold and damp.

I’m almost asleep when she whispers, Laila…. why didn’t you let her in?

I wake up. It’s the middle of the night. I'm in my bed. The mattress is wet. I turn and find my mother awake, sitting on the bed, staring at me.

. . .

Have you had a dream on loop? One which seems real but isn’t? Or a dream that occurs regularly with the same pattern? A spooky story that becomes the nightmare or a nightmare that can spook the bravest of men and women?

I would love to hear them - short or long! Do share them in the comments section. Who knows, maybe some of us across the globe are having the same dreams.