I Made A Birthday Wish. My Son Finally Stopped Having Nightmares.

A few weeks ago I was woken up by the sound of my son screaming in the middle of the night. As a single parent it fell solely on me to comfort him and let him know that everything would be alright and that it was just a nightmare.

He looked at me, tears welling in his eyes and then broke down crying.

“Daddy it was so scary! I was in the basement and it was dark and someone was telling me not to be scared but I was. I was so scared!”

“I know, I know but I’m here now and there is nothing to be scared of. It was just a bad dream.” I told him as I hugged him. “Sometimes they happen and they feel so real! I have them too. And you know what I do when I’m scared? I sing a song!”

“A…song?”

“Oh yeah, my favorite song. You are my sunshine…”

“My only sunshine!” He finished.

“That’s right kiddo! You can always call me and I’ll come running but next time try singing that song and see if it makes you feel any better!”

“Okay Daddy, can you stay with me until I go back to sleep.”

“Of course I can.” I whispered.

That was the first night of a string of a nightmare filled week.

Like clockwork every night for the rest of that week, my son would wake in the middle of the night and yell for me, cry, or sing that song to try and soothe himself. I would always go check on him to make sure he was okay and every single time the cause of his fear was a nightmare.

Sometimes he would be trapped in the basement by himself with “someone” talking to him. Other times he would hear a voice downstairs that told him to come play. One time he even made me check under his bed and open his closet door to make sure the “scary voice” wasn’t in there.

If I am being honest, it was getting exhausting. I pride myself on being the best Father I can be but with the amount of time I’m working, the little sleep that I get being interrupted by these nightmares it was taking a toll on me.

After about a week of the incessant nightmares I began to do research. I wanted to know what was happening and if there was a way to help him and in turn help me get some rest. I searched everything I could. Sleep regression, craving attention, fear of the dark. Nothing gave any real answers, but I was getting a bit desperate. I needed to provide for us and I wasn’t going to be able to do that with no rest.

I decided I was going to take him to the Doctor. It was the sensible thing to do and I was hoping he would be able to calm both our nerves. The Doctor did his normal check up and proceeded to ask the reason for our visit.

“So, tell me what’s been going on?” He said with a smile directed toward my son.

“I…I’ve been having bad dreams.” My son said weakly.

“I see. And what are these bad dreams about.”

“Sometimes I’m locked in the basement and it’s scary and sometimes I hear someone call my name downstairs and sometimes they ask me to play and one time he asked me to hurt daddy.”

He never told me about that. That concerned me. Why wouldn’t he tell me about that? I know he was scared but now I was worried that it was more than just bad dreams. Internally I was scared and nervous. Externally I kept a smile on my face to reassure my son he was going to be okay.

The Doctor stood up and looked over to me and then back to my son.

“Ah, I see. I can understand how that can be scary for you! The good news is that you have nothing to be worried about!”

He turned to me.

“This is completely normal. Could be attention seeking, could be a string of bad dreams, maybe some slight trauma after the separation. As of right now just keep being there for him. If it progresses contact me and I will set you up with a great children’s therapist.”

After leaving the office I tried to get his mind off the nightmares.

“You up for some ice cream?”

“Ice cream?! Oh yeah!”

I laughed and tussled his hair. It was nice to see him laugh and not be afraid in the moment.

The next few nights were much of the same. Nightmares, running to check on him, calming him down, staying with him until he fell asleep. My birthday was that Sunday and I planned on calling the Doctor the next day to tell him the nightmares hadn’t stopped.

Sunday came about and all I wanted was a relaxing night with my boy. I decided to take him to get some pizza at our favorite place. He had blurted out to the waitress that it was my Birthday and before they brought us the check, she came out with a slice of a delicious looking chocolate cake with one candle lit. After feeling slightly embarrassed being serenaded by the staff I was going to blow out the candle when my son stopped me.

“Daddy! Daddy! Don’t forget to make a wish!”

“Ah you’re right! How could I forget?!”

And so I did. As silly as it was to make an ACTUAL wish, I did it.

I closed my eyes.

And I wished for my son to stop having nightmares.

After tucking him in for the night, I headed to the kitchen to pour myself a celebratory glass of Whiskey. It had been a rough few months and we were doing pretty good apart from the nightmares. I sat down on the couch with the glass of whiskey in hand and took a few sips.

I must’ve fallen asleep after finishing it because I woke up with an empty glass in my hand to the sound of my son singing “You are my sunshine” quietly. Prepared for another night of bad dreams I walked over to his room. I expected him to look over to the door as I pushed it open.

Instead, all I saw was him sleeping. Eyes closed. His small chest rising and falling with his breath. I closed the door and paused for a second. I heard that song, I know it. I started to think maybe the whiskey was stronger than I thought.

That night was the first night my son slept straight through since this all started. I woke up in the morning feeling refreshed. A full night of sleep can do wonders. I got ready for work and got my son ready for school. I asked how he slept.

With a big stretch he said, “I slept great daddy!”

After a long day we hung out all night. I made us dinner and we watched a movie on the couch. With our stomachs full and popcorn all over the couch I told him it was time for bed. I once again tucked him in and he fell asleep within minutes.

I decided to hop in the shower and planned on making it an early night when I got out. I had just finished washing the shampoo out when I noticed something on the other side of the shower curtain.

It was my son.

Or,

What I thought was my son. Standing there. I had figured he must’ve had another nightmare or maybe he couldn’t sleep. After rinsing off the remaining shampoo I asked him, “Everything alright bud?” Before he could answer I was already moving the shower curtain. Shockingly, no one was there. I quickly grabbed a towel and with wet footsteps made my way over to his room. There he was. Sleeping soundly once again.

I dried myself off and headed to my bedroom. It was there that I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The bags under my eyes were dark. My face looked worn out. I looked exhausted. Maybe one night of peaceful sleep wasn’t enough, I thought.

That night was the worst night I had in a long time.

After some difficulty falling asleep I had finally managed to get some much needed rest.

I had the most vivid, horrible, and shocking nightmare I’ve ever had. I was standing in front of my house at night. I noticed my son’s light on upstairs. It was then, that I noticed a figure walking out of my front door. I couldn’t make out any features but it was holding something.

A gas canister.

I tried to take a step but I couldn’t move, I couldn’t react to what was happening. I looked up to my son’s window and he was standing there, screaming, crying.

“Let me out! Please Daddy, let me out!”

He wasn’t looking at me when he said it though. He was looking down, at the person holding the gas canister. I looked at the figures other hand and noticed the lit match. Within seconds the house was up in a blaze. I tried screaming, I tried running, but I couldn’t even manage a whimper.

The figure began to slowly turn around.

The rage inside me reaching a boiling point.

As I made eye contact, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

It was me. I lit the match. I set the house on fire.

I woke up in a panic, drenched in sweat. It all felt so real. There was no chance I would be falling asleep again. The next day couldn’t come fast enough.

As I sat in my kitchen, I couldn’t fully process what was happening. I was in no condition to work so I decided to take the day off. I would drop my son off at school and come home and relax. Do everything I can to ease my mind.

As my son was leaving the car, he looked at me with a smile.

“Thanks for taking away my nightmares daddy!”

And off he went to school.

At home, I melted into the couch and put on junk television. I was doing my best impression of a couch potato.

After about an hour of “relaxing” I decided to be productive. I needed to get some laundry done and there was no better time to do it. I loaded up the washer and made my way back upstairs.

I made myself some lunch and was so full I passed out on the couch. When I woke up I was feeling great. The fog of the last few days seemed to be lifting and I finally had some much needed energy. It was almost time for pick up at school. I ran downstairs to throw the clothes in the dryer.

I have a front load washer. I had almost transferred all the clothes except for a few pieces towards the back. I reached into the wash and I could barely feel them on my finger tips. I stretched my arm one last time and that’s when I felt it.

A hand.

It grabbed my wrist. I tried to pull it back but I was stuck. I don’t know how to describe it. I yanked and yanked and every time I did my wrist was pulled from the other side.

“What the fuck! Get off of me! What the fuck!”

With a last desperate try I yanked my arm out and felt immediate pain. Whatever had grabbed me had left long finger imprints on my wrist. It looked like someone had dug their nails along my forearm. I was bleeding.

I didn’t waste another moment. I sprinted up the stairs, grabbing my keys on the way out. I was going to get my son and I was damn sure not letting us come back to this house.

I did my best to not show anything was wrong. I didn’t want to scare my son any more than he had been the past few weeks. I tried to keep it normal, casual. Took him to the park, took him bowling, and took him for some dinner.

“I’m tired Daddy, can we go home?”

“How bout one more adventure? What do ya say?” I said, trying to buy time.

“Okayyy one more adventure.” He replied, clearly exhausted.

We went to Walmart to grab some basic clothes and essentials.

I brought us to a hotel and told him we were having a “big boy” sleepover.

He was excited. I was scared, still. I gave him a shower and let him sleep in his own bed.

I’m sitting here now AFRAID to fall asleep. Scared something will visit me in my dreams that I won’t be able to shake off. I don’t know where to go from here or who to talk to. I can go to the police but I’ll sound insane. I can go to a Doctor but I don’t think this is a problem they can help with.

I’m lost. I’m finally admitting that now.

Help me.

Help us.