Midnight Fears: A Tale of Bedtime Anxiety Part 1

TW!: Death, dark writing theme

Diary Entry, June 2nd

This whole "bedtime" thing scares me, not because of my Fear Of Missing Out acting up during the night, but because of the thing that watches me, the same thing that watches no one else except me. Any direction I toss and turn, I see it. Inside any dream, I see it. Reflections through the TV, staring through the window, and even sleepovers at my friends' houses. This creature is stalking me, waiting to take me from this world and make me one of its kind... waiting to kill me.

Every night, I sleep with a knife in my drawer, just in case it decides to pounce on the opportunity presented, and every night, the temptation I have to search around my room in the dark, knife in hand, is overwhelming. But I don't think I can take it anymore. I can't stay awake, but I can't fall asleep. My only option is to leave and figure out what's cursed me.

I keep replaying the first time I noticed it, lurking in the shadows of my room, its presence sending chills down my spine. It was just after my birthday—when I felt invincible, surrounded by friends and laughter. But that night, as the last echo of joy faded away, it appeared. I was alone, the darkness wrapping around me like a thick fog, and then there it was, a whisper of movement just beyond my line of sight.

What does it want from me? I’ve tried to confront it in my mind, to understand its motives, but the more I delve into that abyss, the deeper the terror sinks into my bones. Maybe it feeds on fear, growing stronger with every sleepless night. Or perhaps it thrives on the essence of those who have lost hope. I can feel its hunger gnawing at me, like a predator toying with its prey.

The more I think about leaving, the more urgent it becomes. What if I could discover its origin? Is it a figment of my imagination or something far more sinister? I feel a strange pull towards the old library downtown—the one filled with dusty tomes and stories long forgotten. If anyone has answers, I believe they might lie there, hidden within the pages of a book that hasn't seen the light of day in decades. But then again, what if it follows me? What if leaving my room only gives it the chance it’s been waiting for? I shudder at the thought, my heart racing.

Tomorrow, I’ll take the knife with me, hidden beneath my shirt, a silent companion in my quest for the truth. I need to know if I’m fighting a real monster or just the shadows of my own fears. Either way, this nightmarish existence cannot continue. I refuse to be its prey any longer. I’ll confront whatever lurks in the darkness, even if it means stepping into the unknown.

Diary Entry, June 3rd

I checked the library after school today. Nothing. Not a single word. I'm stuck with this thing. But I don't want to be. Not only that, but I also saw it again...well...not entirely. I only saw glowing red eyes and razor-sharp teeth...I froze in place when I saw those eyes, the same ones that had been haunting my thoughts for weeks now. They were watching me from the shadows, just out of sight, but close enough to make my skin crawl. The teeth, jagged and gleaming, curved into what almost seemed like a grin, mocking me. I wanted to run, but my legs felt heavy, rooted to the ground. My breath caught in my throat, the air in the library suddenly thick and suffocating. I glanced around, hoping someone else would notice—another student, a teacher, anyone. But the place was empty, eerily quiet except for the soft hum of the flickering lights.

I squeezed my eyes shut, telling myself it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me again. I’ve been stressed, barely sleeping, caught up in this strange mystery that made no sense. But when I opened my eyes, the red glow was still there, unmoving, unwavering. I backed away slowly, my heart pounding in my chest. I thought about screaming, but who would believe me? They’d probably think I was crazy. Maybe I am crazy.

That’s when I heard it—a whisper. Low, guttural, like the voice of something ancient and dark.

“You’re not ready yet.” I shivered. My mouth went dry as I stood frozen.

“Ready for what?” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know the answer. The eyes blinked out of existence, as if they’d never been there. The room was back to normal, quiet and still, like nothing had ever happened. I should’ve felt relieved, but the dread that had settled deep in my bones didn’t fade. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t going away. And somehow, I knew I was getting closer to whatever it wanted me to find—or maybe closer to whatever it was that wanted me.

Diary Entry, June 4th

I saw it again last night... I felt its cold breath on my neck and the weight of its small body crushing my chest, the only sound breaking the deafening silence being my ragged and erratic breathing. Its presence was more real than ever, more suffocating, as if the darkness itself had taken shape and wrapped itself around me. I still feel somewhat challenged to breathe, like it's still sitting on me, pressing harder with each second, ready to bite my head off.

Every time I close my eyes, I can feel its presence lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal itself. It’s not just in my room anymore—it's everywhere. I sense it during the day, following me from corner to corner, like a hunter patiently stalking its prey. It’s like a relentless nightmare that I can't escape from, no matter how hard I try. I can’t even tell what’s real anymore. The lines between dream and waking life have blurred into one endless cycle of dread.

I try to move, but it paralyzes me and keeps me frozen in place. I try to scream, but no sound escapes my lips. And the worst part? No one else sees it. To them, it's just another sleepless night for me, another bout of paranoia. But I know the truth... it's real. It's here, and it wants something from me. It's unbearable... no matter how hard I try, I can't run. There's no escape. All I can do is close my eyes at night and pray for it to end... but I fear that the end it seeks is not the one I’m hoping for.

Mental Diary Entry, June 4th

So I was right. It was looking for my soul. And now it has it. I felt the shift last night, the moment it got what it came for. There was a coldness inside me that I’d never felt before, as if a part of me had been ripped away. My body is here, but my soul is gone. Trying to protect myself from it was useless. All the rituals, the wards, the prayers... none of it worked. I was a fool to think I could fight it. The last diary entry is the last you will hear of me—the last remnants of who I was before it took me.

It’s strange. I feel empty, yet I know it still lurks, still watching me, still waiting. For what, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s waiting for the final moment, when I’m fully consumed, when nothing of me remains. Or maybe it’s just savoring the torment, feeding off the fear that still lingers in my heart. But it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over. It won. This is the last you will hear from Ryzen Radeon. I am no longer here... not really.