I toss and I turn again and again, night after night. Always so afraid to close my eyes out of the fear of what I might see.

The man in the mask who scratches all of the windows with his hook for Hand walking round and round my house only pausing to peer through my bedroom window selectively casting his gaze on to me. And then I wake up with a scream.

The woman in red who I find in my bed and as I go to flip her over she’s missing her face. I pull back the sheets and has no limbs. And I open my eyes and I’m frozen.

Night after night, I wake up in a fright. The images haunt me while I’m awake, I can’t function. I’m afraid I’m starting to break.