October 26, 2018 - News Post

I remember...

I couldn't have been older than ten, because I still lived in my parents' house. You know the one. It was tall, wooden, and creaky.

My bedroom was on the second floor. A small, square room situated above the kitchen. On one side of the room was my door. On the other, my bed.

Every night, I would try to fall asleep, and every night I would fail. The only light in the room came from the edges of the window, inches above my bed.

I stared at that light.

On normal nights, the dark gray shade completely blocked the light from outside. One night, however, was a full moon. There was juuuuust enough light escaping around the shade to outline my window. Instead of complete darkness, I was treated to a faint, blue rectangle.

I hated that rectangle. It was blinding, it was distracting, it made me nervous.

We had the most affordable spring-loaded roller shades that money could buy. On many occasions, the shades would snap open on their own. Sometimes during the day, sometimes late at night while I was sleeping. I never knew when the window might strike. More often than not, though, the shades would refuse to open. I didn't trust my shade.

For hours, I glared at the window above my bed. I'd feel myself drifting off to sleep, then wake up entirely. The only constant in the room was the faint blue rectangle. I needed to sleep.

I was sleepy.

So sleepy.

After a while, I rolled over, no longer facing the light of the window. I could still see its reflection on the floor, although it was much dimmer. Less of a problem.

Then, just as my eyes stated to close, a rustling came from the shade.

I looked up to see the plastic sheeting bumping up and down on the window sill. My heart raced. I gripped the sheets as hard as I could.

In less than a second but more than an eternity, a hand reached its way out of the shade.

A dark, gray, completely smooth silhouette of a man was pushing his way though. His arm moved the shade aside. Whether he had a face or not could not be seen in the dark, but his head and torso extended into the room. A beat went by, and I could tell that he was staring at me.

I tried screaming, yet only wind escaped my vocal cords.

The silhouette turned his head to the side, leaned in. And in a cold, raspy voice, he said, “Hello Jeffrey, how are you?”

....

I bolted upright as fast as I could. I inhaled to scream, but... it was already daytime?

Breathing heavily, I scanned the room. The shade was halfway open, and no one was there.

I looked around. No sign of any disturbance. My heart was racing, I was drenched in sweat, yet no one but me was in the room.

It appeared to be a bad dream.

I got up slowly. I looked under my bed and in my closet. Nothing.

I checked the window. Locked from the inside.

The survey went on for several minutes before I allowed myself to breath normally. I left the room, and headed downstairs for breakfast. Everything was fine. Life was normal. I was going to be okay.

As I reached the last step, however, I stopped...

If everything was fine, then how did the shade get opened?

...

That was an absolutely true story from my childhood.

I assume it was a dream. I hope it was a dream. It wasn't the worst dream I've ever had, but it was one of the most memorable. To this day, I don't think I've ever gone more than a few months without the image of that gray silhouette in my head. I've never had a dream like that before or since.

Happy Halloween or whatever.

-Jeff