RT 233

Here it comes.
The most lonely time of the day.
It’s dark, dreary and no ones awake.
I hate being alone during this time.
I wish the light could stay.
For my slumbers are nearly ready to ride this wave.

Eery noises surround these four walls.
It’s almost as if someone is having a conversation.
But, there is no one there at all.
Shadows, echoes and my name gets called.
I wish I could sleep.
These voices are making me stall.

My body grows heavy and I can’t seem too move.
I listen intently, for there is nothing else I can do.
Frightened to the brim, I’m eager to know when this will pass.
3A.M. Is what the clock seems to flash.

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Cue the tv to turn up on its own and the little children who start to laugh and moan.
I muster up some courage to run to the hallway.
But, something seems to be standing and blocking in my way.
My blanket feels heavy though there’s no one there.
The obvious odd behavior gets me quite scared.
I pull whatever’s off and dash to the door.
I awaken my sister and what seems to be much more.

I can’t sleep.
It feels like something is watching over me.
One eye opened and one under the covers.
I’m nearly as brave.
But I must check on my brother.
I bullet to the opposite end of the hallway and into his room.
Where a toy greets me singing me a tune.
Confused to how it’s singing and why at the same time.
I dash under the blankets and begin to cry.

The voices get louder and the bed starts to sag.
As if someone is sitting with us and I start to feel the covers drag.
I close my eyes.
Keep telling myself I am brave.
This will end soon and everything will be ok.

Clutching my eyes ever so tight, I manage to fall asleep.
Morning arises and this is another secret I will have to keep.
Ten years old and tortured by the dead.
Too scared to sleep in my own bed.
Locked in my room where no one can hear me.
I scream for help but only my sister can hear thee.

Years pass and we move out of the home.
Though those memories still haunt me
I’m afraid they are my own.
Waking in the night, I’m still afraid to see,
What time it is and hoping its not 3.

Ten years old and tortured by the dead.
I refuse to let them scare me out of my own damn bed.

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