I woke up for no reason that night. It’s not like I had to go to the bathroom or go get a glass of water like some nights.

My room was completely quiet.

There was no coming to. I was immediately wide awake. This was unusual for me. It usually takes me a few seconds, sometimes minutes, to come to. This time, I woke up like I’d been kicked.

I was lying on my back, which was also unusual. I normally sleep on my side or on my stomach. My blanket was up around me, tight, like I’d just been tucked in.

I was sweating. Profusely. My pillow was moist. My bedroom door was closed, and the night light which I usually leave on was off. The room was dark.

The overheard fan was on high. It was spinning really fast, I remember that part well. Really spinning. It seemed like it might fly off the ceiling.
It was the only sound I could hear – the fan’s metronomic motor and blades cutting through the thin air. It was strange that I couldn’t hear anything else at that moment. I lay there listening, alert, and addled.

And that’s when I saw him.

It wasn’t a dream. I never saw his face but he just stood there staring at me like a statue. I had to cover myself with sheets to his sight that was boring a hole in me. Six years later, even though I never saw his face, his presence is always with me.

He’s always watching me.