I woke up this morning at 2 am because I had a bad dream. I think it was more the sweat on my body beneath the heavy quilt that caused me to stir...when I opened my eyes, I saw that the lights in my room were on. At first I was irritated, then I remembered that I had closed my eyes to a dark room, so I became a little uneasy in my sleepy grog. Who had turned them on? Why would they forget to turn them off? I crawled out of bed, flipped the switch, blew my nose and then climbed the ladder to my bed again.

The ceiling fan rattled out a beat, and I felt my heart moving in rapid contrast, while my body layed still. I took one deep breath, then another...I was soon climbing the stairs, intending to sleep on the cot my parents have set up in their bedroom for Isaiah when he has bad dreams. They didn't even stir when I opened their door. I plopped down with my pillow and blanket, then when I was finally settled, I heard it. Footsteps, feet inside shoes, footsteps...the door creaked when they stopped outside my parents room, then it opened, and there was a man. He removed his coat, and spoke to me when I asked him what he wanted, I don't remember what he said...but I remember his creepy smile, and how he left me in my parents room, making his way next to where my sleeping brothers were. I started telling my dad in hushed tones to wake up...I couldn't move myself, I just sat on the edge of the cot asking my dad to wake up. He didn't respond, so I kept increasing my voice until I was yelling..."Dad! There's someone in the house, wake up!" I was panicking, that guy was in by my brothers. Finally my dad sat up,

"What are you doing here? "
"Dad, there's a man in the house."
"Well," He said lying back down."if he were any real threat he'd be dead by now."

I layed down shaking, fear, uncertainty, and anger at my dad. I closed my eyes and rolled over so that my back would be towards the door, when next I opened my eyes...I was again in my own room. I sat up quickly, still feeling the uncertainty from my dream, the fan had kept ticking and the lights were dark.
I layed there thinking about how I shouldn't be afraid that my lights were on (that was my whole reasoning for going upstairs in the dream)...I thought about how much I would have been freaked out when I woke up from the first dream (the one that made me sweat) had my room been completely dark. How when I was a kid, the only thing that made me feel better after a nightmare was having all the lights turned on in my room. I never liked to see shadows anywhere...but now I had been having heart palpatations, over the fact that my lights were on when I woke up from the first bad dream, it had instead sent me into a half awake fit of anxiety. A dream that was worse than the first one. The light hadn't killed my fear...and that bothered me so much, that I did go upstairs to my parents room, but no creepy smile was there to greet me. Just my dad who popped out of bed at the first sound of my barefeet hitting the creaky stairs. It was 4 am, my dad told me to climb in bed with mom because he "was just getting up anyway". At first I was confused that he'd be getting up at such an ungodly hour, then I was thankful, then I was praying for the real kind of light to expose itself, making shadows gone. After that I slept.

I talked to my dad later, and he said he woke up with a start around 2 am, thinking he should check on me. I asked him why the hell he didn't :).

I started thinking about how I want to move out and live on my own in Rochester...and how Sarah Marie would feel if I had to crawl in bed with her after a bad dream. It didn't make for good feelings on independence. It's been 6 months since I thought up a reason I should marry...and my skiddishness around darkness and being a alone at night is as good as any. I hate being attacked with fear like this at night, most of the time I just whisper a prayer of "uh-no...I'm too tired for this now. Jesus please take care of this." I forget that sometimes though, and the extra security of company in bed would help that. I can't believe I'm being so brutally honest. My parents will be pleased.