I was only nine when it started. It was when I stopped sleeping. Mom was deeply concerned about it. The terrors that came with sleeping were too much for me. So I stopped.

The feeling of not being able to move and the figures surrounding me. I couldn’t handle it.

I was a stupid kid. Staying up late every night. Why do kids do such things, I could not tell you. But I can tell you that the sleep deprivation was the cause and effect in this situation.

My therapist told me to write down what happened every single night. It doesn’t help, but I still do it.

Night 1093: Last night it happened again. It has not happened in awhile. It lasted a long time. Longer than usual. I awoke to a presence in my room. Of course, a shadow figure stood just at my feet. My head throbbed, and although this often happened, my fear of them grow more intense every time. This time was no different. I tried to move, but not a muscle twitched. I wanted to run, I tried to wriggle my way out of my covers. Nothing. The figure crept closer. My heart beat grew faster. The thudding in my chest was so hard and loud, I thought my heart my burst. Tears streamed my face. The figure kept shifting, I watched it. Until eventually I fell back into my slumber.

Night 1097: This is probably the worst sleep I’ve ever had. Well I can’t really call it sleep, when most of if was me trying to sleep and get away from the towering monstrosity. I decided that, I will only sleep in the day, and only around other people. It might not help, but at night and alone is much much worse. This time it was just one big demon-like human, crawling up and down the walls. Touching my face, my arms. Saying stuff. I tried to scream. Nothing. I felt the fear grow inside of my chest. Like a ball. It was like there was a certain carved out space for all my fear to go, and each and every night, the fear grew outside of that carved out space. Cutting more and more out.

Night 112: I can’t take it, they’re coming for me.

“Suicide.” The detective said.

“I don’t know about that, take a look at this.”

He held up a notebook, full of writing