Sleep Watcher

Sleep Watcher(Val Kirkman) SLEEP WATCHER


I’m not crazy, although my family and Dr. Haverty think so. They say I suffer from a delusional disorder, grandiose delusional disorder in fact. Grandiose because I think I’m special.

At first my family thought my ability was a miracle, but now it’s a sickness to them. Now they say things to me like, “Ginny, it’s just a coincidence, nothing more,” or “stop reading too much into it.” Their narrow-mindedness cuts deep.

The drugs dull my mind. I’m not the same anymore. The mental acuity and intuition in my dreams are dulled because of the Valium. My dreams used to be lucid, and they exhausted me, as though I had never slept. But lately it’s been the same recurring dream. And I always wake up just as I’m about to approach the dark stranger standing beneath the tree. It’s so frustrating. At this point, I’d welcome even the tiniest premonition just to prove I haven’t lost myself. My other self, my dream self, that is.

It’s not my fault that I see what I see. I just do. I don’t even know how to make it happen. It just does. But the dreams haven’t been wrong yet. Well, except for the premonition that landed me in here. I’m not sure what went wrong. I don’t remember. I got it confused somehow. I was so sure it was Father Michaels who left that little girl for dead.

I can’t believe they committed me to The Kellogg Institute, the frickin’ Fruit Loop Farm, for Christ sakes. One mistake, and bam, you’re not qualified for life anymore? Unbelievable. And my stepfather was actually pleased to be rid of me. I could see it on his face. And my mom just cried and told me to get better.

But I won’t be here much longer. Help is coming.

I know because I read about him in the local astonishment today. My gut told me that he was the answer to my prayers. The article referred to him as The Sleep Watcher. Apparently this stalker was spotted by five different women in our town. The women claimed they woke up to find a man standing next to their bed, but that he vanished before they could even scream. None of the women were harmed. There were no signs of forced entry.

Something told me that this guy wasn’t getting his jollies from watching them sleep. He was searching for something, I could feel it. Regardless of his intent, I knew The Sleep Watcher was going to get me out of this mental rut.

The first thing I had to do was get a message to him. So when our ice cream outing to the DQ was scheduled for Wednesday, I knew this was my chance. Not all the crazies got the privilege, just the ones that were a little bit crazy like me, or my roommate, Beemish, who hasn’t uttered a word in twenty years. And Sara, the girl with arachnophobia, was my key to slipping away.

As usual, Sara drank all of her slush before the others had even finished ordering. And as usual she needed to use the bathroom.
“I’ll take her,” I offered to Nan and Gertie, who were still busy with the other loonies in line. “I gotta go too.”
Gertie raised a suspicious brow, but the patient tethered to her wrist yanked Gertie’s attention away. Gertie called over her shoulder, “Don’t try any funny business.”
“No worries,” I said to Gertie.

I followed Sara to the restroom. She insisted that I check for bugs before she entered the stall. I gave her the all clear and entered the next stall. Then I slipped the envelope from my sock and tore it open. I stepped up on the stool and dumped the dead box elder bugs that I’d collected from our garden patio into Sara’s stall.

She totally flipped out, even more than I expected. Her ear-shattering scream was endless. In a crazed frenzy, she bolted out of the stall and stripped from her clothes. She perched on the sink and shrieked.

When I exited the restroom, Gertie was rushing down the hall with the tethered crazy girl bouncing from wall to wall. Nan wasn’t far behind. I stepped out of their way.

“I don’t know what happened. All of a sudden she flipped out,” I said. “I think it was the dead bugs on the floor. They’re all over in there.” They rushed into the restroom and never noticed when I slipped out the door.

Our town welcome sign was only two blocks away from the DQ, so in a quick sprint I reached my destination. I had a sudden urge to keep on running and never look back. But what would happen if they caught me? I’d land myself in lock-up doped up on more drugs. So I stuck to the plan and wrote my message with lipstick on the white clouds above the lettering that read: Welcome to Balsch Springs.

I wrote, Wake me up inside at Kellogg. Then I drew a symbol. It was the symbol of an eye. I’m not sure why I chose the symbol. It just felt right. I stepped back to inspect my work. The dark red letters were bold against the white clouds.

Back at the DQ, I rested against the van in the parking lot. “What the heck are you doing out here?” Nan asked. “Get back in here.”
“I was just getting some air, away from all the commotion,” I said.

Poor Sara was so doped up when Gertie brought her to the van, but they never suspected that I instigated the scene. It was a rotten prank to pull on Sara, I know. But I was desperate to send my message.

That evening Beemish watched as I drew the same symbol on my window. I couldn’t complain about Beemish for a room mate. She never spoke and she was a great listener. By now I’ve told her my entire life story. Sometimes there was a glimmer of understanding in her eyes that told me she truly comprehended, but most likely I was just reading too much into it.

I crawled under the covers and invited sleep to come. My dream state of mind was the same. And so was the dream. Somewhere on a conscious level I could feel the disappointment building while my dreaming mind walked toward the lone tree on the finger of the pond, where the cloaked dark stranger waited. And as usual I sensed my own fear as I approached him in the dream. Yet somewhere on a conscious level I knew I’d never reach him. Because the valium started to pull me into the gray zone as usual.
But as the gray started to roll in tonight, I sensed a slight tickle on my ear. I heard a whisper, “Ginny.” All at once the gray zone became a purple haze dancing in a wild frenzy beneath my eyelids. Something pulled on my consciousness and I tried fighting it. But then in a flash the purple haze turned white as I felt myself awakening.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a man. His face was only inches from mine. His eyes were as blue as sapphires. He peered into my eyes for so long that I felt as though he could see beyond my eyes, as though they were open doors for him to look inside and see every thought. His perfect jaw line and black hair made him handsome like a prince. And his piercing blue eyes sent an electrifying surge throughout my body. I knew I should pull away, or speak, or something, but I was arrested by his trance. I felt compelled to kiss this gorgeous man whose lips were so close to mine. He wanted me to kiss him, I could feel it.
When our lips touched, I couldn’t hold back any longer and I ripped his shirt open to touch his hard pecs and rippled abs. His touch was like warm rain trickling down my body, delighting and warming areas that haven’t been awake in a while. He was so electrifying that I couldn’t help myself. He was almost too perfect to be real.

I wondered if I could still be dreaming and once the thought popped into my mind, I broke the seal upon our lips. I pulled myself into a sitting position and adjusted my pajamas.
“Are you the sleep watcher?” My heart pounded in my chest.
He never once removed his eyes from mine as he sat down beside me and caressed my cheek. “My name is Pothos. I am here to wake you up inside.” Even his smile was endearing.
I felt my cheeks get warm. “Well, you certainly got a good start, but that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.” I wanted to kick myself just then. “I want for you to awaken my dreams so I have clarity.”
“Why do you desire clarity?” he asked, even though his gaze felt like he already knew the answer.
“To set everything right,” I said.
“If I grant your desire, you must do something in return,” he said.
“Huh?” The lock he held on my eyes was unbreakable. “What do you want?”
“You must allow the shepherd to see the mind’s eye.”
“I don’t understand. What shepherd?” I asked.
“The shepherd summoned me to search for the girl with the mind’s eye. For three nights I have failed, until now. You are her,” he said so knowingly.
“What makes you think I am her?” I asked.
“Because you drew the symbol.” He pointed to the window without looking away. “And the shepherd is in your dreams. I have seen.” Arrogance flickered within his eyes.
“Why does he think I have this eye thingy?” I could see the reflection of myself in his deep seas of knowledge.

Pothos pulled me close and said, “Your ability to see is the minds eye.” Then he pressed his lips to mine and the hunger stirred like ten thousand watts of power. Just when I thought I might explode, he pulled away. He withdrew to the mirror on my closet door and without turning to face me he said, “Tomorrow at midnight we shall consummate our dues.” I nodded as he stepped into the mirror and vanished.

Before I could even get a grasp on what happened, things got more bizarre when I heard Beemish say, “No, no. You must not bargain with desire.” In total shock I watched her slide from her bed and shuffle to me. Her gnarly old hands grabbed a hold of mine. “Listen to me, my child,” she continued, “Pothos is desire. Together, with the shepherd, they engender chaos. Do not invite him into your mind or darkness will come.” She swallowed as though it hurt.

I wanted to pinch myself to be sure I was awake, but her grasp was proof enough. “Ow. You’re hurting me,” I said, trying to break her grasp. “You can speak?”
She ignored my questions. “Keep the shepherd out. He cannot enter without your invitation.” She paused to clear her throat. “Pothos will play on your emotions for the shepherd, in an attempt to weaken you. Do not let it happen again. Your emotions have already masked the true meaning once. You must discipline your mind and your emotions.”
“True meaning of what?” I finally broke free from her grasp.
Beemish waved away my question. “To discipline your mind you must focus on an object before falling asleep. Keep this focal point in your mind, always. Once you are dreaming, direct your awareness toward the object and you will awaken your consciousness within your dreaming mind.” Her voice cracked as she continued, “If you can do this, you will stand a chance against the shepherd.”

A cloudiness filled my head while Beemish shuffled back to her bed and climbed under her covers. She spoke one last time, “You are only beginning to emerge as a seer.” She closed her eyes.

My repeated attempts to wake her were unsuccessful so I paced the floor and chewed my nails, and tried to decipher the information overload. She said to focus on an object. These words played over in my mind. What should I focus on? Maybe the clock. No. I may not be able to find it in the dream world. It has to be something that will always be with me. How about my hands? That brought to mind my amethyst ring. I went to my dresser and removed it from the drawer where I placed it on the day I was committed. It was a gift from my real dad. Tears welled in my eyes when I placed the silver-banded birthstone on my finger. This felt right. This was my focal point. I felt relief by my choice.
The sense of relief made me realize how tired I felt. Dawn was coming. I could see it in the horizon. I needed to sleep. But before I did, I tried to wake Beemish. She never woke up, and I never dreamt the rest of the night.

When I saw myself in the mirror the next morning, I barely recognized my face. With the dark circles under my eyes and my nails chewed to the quick, I looked like one of the tweakers from the fifth wing. The folks in that ward are whacked from crack. They’re no longer qualified for life, in my book. But I guess I’m not one to speak, considering what I discovered next.

Gertie opened my door. “Are you coming down for breakfast?”
“No. I’ll take it in here today.” I turned from the mirror.
“Geez, you look like crap. Rough night?” She placed a fat hand on her fat hip.
“Yeah. You could say so,” I said. “Where’s Beemish? You already take her down?” I was anxious to get Beemish alone again.
“Who?” Gertie asked.
“Beemish. My room mate.” I pointed to the second bed.
“Dang, girl, you better crawl back under those covers and wake up all over again cuz you know that bed’s been empty since you arrived.” Her incredulous look was apparent. “Do I need to call Dr. Haverty?”

My mind was blown, but I remained calm enough to say, “No. I’m fine. I barely slept last night. I’m just really tired.” And not to mention totally off my rocker, I thought to myself. “I think I’ll get some rest. Can you bring all meals today?” I added.
“Well, okay. I’ll let the cafeteria know.” Gertie left.

That was the moment when I questioned my own grasp on reality. How could I have made her up? My mind raced back to every single moment I spent with Beemish in an attempt to prove she was real. I cried like a baby throughout the day in fear that I actually belonged at Kellogg. My mind was toast, toasted oatey ohs, just like all the residents here at the fruit loop farm.

I was so emotionally exhausted by the time nightfall arrived that I was numb. A buzz of nothingness rang in my ears while I stared back and forth from the clock to my ring until my eyelids were heavy and tired. At first I hadn’t noticed that I’d fallen into slumber. But then I saw the car from my premonition.-

The cutlass pulled around the corner just as little Amy Williams skipped into the crosswalk. I saw her body bounce under the car like a rag doll as the car rolled over her. The sound made me feel sick. The driver finally stopped and stepped from the car. Music blared from the stereo. His face was shadowed from the light of the street lamp, but I saw his silhouette kneel before little Amy. He checked for a pulse. His sorrowful form told me there was none. He turned his face to the night sky as if asking, “Why is this happening to me?” And in that moment before he got in his car and drove off, I saw his face. It was the face of my stepfather.

I woke with a frightful jolt. The pit of my stomach churned and my heart sank to the floor. I rejected the thought. I wanted to deny it for my mom’s sake too, because she loved him so much. But as I replayed it over in my head, I began to recognize the dream for its truth. It was clear to me how the true meaning of my first premonition was masked by my own emotions. My mind substituted Father Michaels for my own stepfather. Beemish was right. If indeed, there was a Beemish.

I was totally wrapped up in my own puzzled abyss that I hadn’t noticed Pothos return, until I felt the thrill of his touch upon my shoulder. The angst and confusion over my stepdad was extinguished on contact.
“The time has come,” he said.

I shrugged his hand away and stood with my back to him before my window. “Deal’s off,” I said, “I found clarity on my own.”

In a fancy dancelike move he spun me around and pulled my hips to his. The light in his eyes burned into mine and his inexhaustible charm tugged at my heart. He truly was desire. His powers of persuasion made me weak in the knees and he steadied me. Then he placed a hand on my forehead. Sudden drowsiness overcame me. He owned me in that moment when I fell asleep in his arms.

An earthy smell filled my nostrils and the leaves crunched under my feet as I descended the inlet of the pond. All the trees were bare except the one where the shepherd waited. A gentle breeze rustled its leaves. He empowered a gravitational force that spiraled around me and drew me forward although I was reluctant to proceed. Then in a flash, like he pressed fast forward, I was standing before him. Fear rushed over me when I saw his face shimmer in and out of sight below his cloak. All at once the leaves on the oak, which I came to realize weren’t leaves at all but black birds instead, fluttered to life and flew away. I saw no mouth, yet I heard his voice ring in my head.

He said, “Once a seer reaches a quarter of a century, the power of the mind’s eye fully emerges. At that time a seer achieves insight to all parallel worlds. Your mind’s eye is a gift which I intend to take from you before you have a chance to even miss it. It will emerge within me instead.”

He pinned me to the tree and ripped into my mind. My mind was a slave to his gravity and it hurt to resist. Deeper and deeper he dug. I pressed my hand against him in an attempt to turn him away, but he held his stance. Except then I saw the ring on my hand. It reminded me to focus and control my emotions. So I focused on it. I let the fear, anger, and confusion of the day invade my mind. I let it pool up like a balloon about to burst. Then I focused on the ring and pushed the shepherd away with all my strength and I shouted, “You are not invited. The mind’s eye is meant for me. Get out of my mind.”

In the same moment I woke, shouting at Pothos, “You are not invited.” Somehow the shepherd’s encompassing polarity still resonated within me, so when I touched Pothos he was repelled to the wall with great force. His look of surprise was amusing.

“I have underestimated your control,” he said. Then he waved a hand before the mirror. “You may have defeated the shepherd this time, but you have not destroyed him.” He turned and faded into the mirror.

The next day, I had an unexpected visit from my mom. Her tear-stricken face told me she already knew the truth.
“Oh mom, I’m so sorry.” It hurt to see her pain.
“You know?” she asked. “Of course you do. Did you know all along?”
“No. Not until last night, in a dream.” I said. “I had it wrong the first time.”
She blotted her eyes with a worn out tissue and continued, “His guilt must’ve consumed him to the point of confession. He told me everything last night. And now he’s in jail.”

We hugged for an eternity before she said, “I’ve come to take you home.”

When I looked up to my window from outside the institute, Beemish was there. She traced a finger around the eye symbol in the window and waved goodbye.

“Who’s she?” My mom asked.

In that moment I knew everything would be all right.

On the way home, thoughts of Pothos slipped into my mind. I wondered if this handsome sleep watcher would return to hide and seek in my dreams. An inkling told me I would see the shepherd and Pothos once the mind’s eye emerged within me.