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The Insomniac

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Gruesome nightmares haunted my dreams. Images of brutal murders, Satanic rituals, and demons were the common subjects of my night-terrors. I would lie awake for hours at night, scribbling away the night drawing pictures of my nightmares. The portraits hung on thumbtacks on my surrounding me, like the pieces of some abstract demonic puzzle. They taunted me. I heard their snickering and sneering, their sobbing, and their wailing as I stared at them. They were everywhere.

With the last bit of sanity I had left, I slowly moved my hand to the stab wound in my abdomen. I slowly put my fingers through the small crease in my stomach. I looked at my bloody fingers. Then I dropped my hand, letting it fall into the cold bloodstain on my bed. I took one last look at the pictures. Then I closed my eyes. I didn't have to look at them anymore. At last I could finally get some sleep...

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