Nightmares - Day 17

124. What outrages you? (Wake Forest)

                From a very young age, there’s this one thing that has outraged me. It’s the fact that my brother would never get nightmares, no matter how hard I tried. He was absolutely invulnerable, unconquerable and feared nothing.

Before I go into more detail, I must return back to how it all started. It was during a short period of time, back when I was about 6 years old, and my brother was 3 years of age. During this period of time, I had a series of nightmares; most of them involving some sort of fire monster, much resembling the hell hounds sort of figure. I wasn’t able to sleep during this time period. I would immediately flee to my parents’ room because, like most six year olds, I believed that my parents’ possessed some enchanted ability that was able to ward of hell hounds that were on fire, and thrice the size of them. Leaving my brother back in my room (my brother and I shared a room back then); I’d spend the nights in my parents’ room. After being assured of my safety, I felt a great relief and as I lay there among the sheets between my parents, the assurance that I’d be safe from the hell hounds made me energetic and hyper. I didn’t need sleep anymore; i realized that all I needed was safety from the beginning.  Despite lacking hours of sleep, I felt recharged the following day. My parents, however, were extremely sleep deprived and as this continued for an entire week, they realized it couldn’t go on any longer. With my mother’s decisive method of bribing me, that too with a simply 6-year-old toy (how pathetic, right?), with the challenge that I’d gain this prize if I was able to spend the entire week in my room, I was immediately convinced that I could do it. I really, really wanted that toy.

               As I curled up in my blanket and kept an eye at the closet, because apparently that’s their chill-out point -you know, sit down, eat some hell hound dog food -, I realized my little brother all comfortable in his bed. I despised the fact that I’m the one up while he slept soundly. After a night of staying up and keeping watch, I ended up feeling completely numb and dead by breakfast. I devised a plan for that night. I had to bring my brother down to my level. I knew just the thing that could drop his that low. So just before bed, I casually asked him “Do you wanna hear a story?” knowing that he loves bedtime stories, as coincidently as most 3-year-old’s do these days. I began as most stories began: “It was a dark and stormy night … ” Now you may want to argue that I sound a bit too intellectual for my age back then, but I assure you this isn’t exaggerated at all (just kidding, it is highly exaggerated). I continued the story as the typical novels I had read at my age. “In a haunted house out in the middle of nowhere, there was one a closet. No, there were a lot of closets. Actually, there were 300 closets, to be specific”, I paused and gave him a moment to visualize the image. I them attempt to surprise him,“To add to that, there was blood leaking through the cracks of the doors. This was the blood from all the dead bodies hidden in the closets, along with skeletons, and a lot more dead bodies. Oh, and don’t forget the bad guys. They aren’t just any bad guys; they’re bad because they murdered all those people. There’s also a monster”, I continued to add facts as I came up with them. “It’s a vicious dog, with flames on its neck and back. It will tear you to shreds if it gets close to you. Don’t forget the skeletons and the bad guys that want to kill you”, I added as a reminder. “All of them, together, they’ll torture you and kill you. Then you’ll see blood on the floor. This is your blood. Don’t bother crying, your tears will be blood as well. Don’t forget that there were spiders in the house the entire time. The End”, I concluded.

                After convincing myself that this should have been enough for him to run to mom and dad so that I, the oldest child of the family, didn’t seem like a “wuss.” I lay under my sheets as I watched him lie down on his bed. Astonished as he seemed, it made me excited about my accomplishment. He looked at me with the widest eyes I’ve ever seen. After a little staring session, he closes his eyes and puts a grin on his face. Confused, I examine his expression for a while. “Was he experiencing a delayed reaction?” I wondered. Within two minutes, I realized he had successfully fallen asleep. I turn over to face the other side, furious about everything that had happened, only to notice the closet again. As a perfect reminder of the hell hounds, the closet also replayed the little “fairy-tale” I had narrated to my little brother a while back. “They’re in there”, I concluded just before I hopped out of bed and with tremendous agility, sprinted to my parents’ room. I then knocked, actually more like punched-it-hard-enough-that-the-door-would’ve-collapsed, on the door countless number of times until my parent’s finally let me in, after a realization that I wasn’t going back. As I feared the monsters returning, I realized I wouldn’t be able to sleep well for yet another night.

                At breakfast the following morning, as I scooped up a spoon of cereal at a time, I hardly noticed my brother climb up and occupy the seat next to me, all this due to the fact that I felt that I was at the end of my life all because of being extremely sleep-deprived. He looked a lot less traumatized than I would have expected him to be, considered him to have been awake all night crying in fear of all the deadly creature I had described. As I may recall, he was excited about absolutely nothing. He was much more hyper than I had ever seen it. I wondered, “Did I ‘break’ him, as to speak?” He looked at me with an expression I have never seen from him before, as if he wanted something. It wasn’t long until I figured out what it was, he speaks up, “Tell me another story, Dave!” Not at all. Not slightly was he affected by the story but in fact, he wanted more of them. That’s the day I realized, it’s probably impossible to scare my brother in to getting nightmares. As being over this fear now, I have come to realize that there is a certain age group where these fears kick in. Coincidently, that period happens to be right now for my brother, when I’m off at boarding school. Well, at least I know I’ll have an entertaining break, even though it outrages me that I’m not with him, to scare his guts out.