I gulped my last sip of warm milk. A mug of warm milk always become my companion at night, before I go to sleep. It is always the same. 2 teaspoons of powdered milk, 1 teaspoon of sugar, mix it up before the mug filled with ¾ hot water and 1/3 cold water, that made a perfect warm milk –for me. With those formulas, the warm milk always entertain my whole digestive system. The sweet and fatty acidic flavor of the milk really make my tongue happy. The warmth of the milk relaxing my throat as it slides through, and when it rest in my stomach, it heats my entire body. Such a delight ! I feel sorry for those lactose intolerant people who can’t enjoy this liquid of heaven.
The mug is finally empty. It’s a red mug with words and emblem on it. “MEMORIAL UNIVERSITY OF CANADA” it said. It was my mom’s. She got it when she went abroad to take her master degree. I took it –without her consent of course, I took it secretely- because it helps me reminds me of her when I’m leaving for my master degree. I took the mug into the kitchen. I have to wash it in the kitchen sink, otherwise it will stink overnight.
I always love this kitchen. It has oven, microwave, stove, anything you need to make great and healthy food. My dad installed it for me. He’s quite royal for something like this. What makes me love this kitchen more is that it is decorated with a big window which is now directly showing the night sky. At the morning, I can see the big tree outside, hear the bird chirp as I make my breakfast –usually eggs and roasted vegetables-. It has big window shade, I can close it up at noon so the sun wouldn’t heat the room. And at night, it is simply the best. Right now –at night, I can see the sky clearly. The crescent moon is hanging over there, decorated by the stars. Sometimes I can see firefly too. But still, the main attraction is the night sky.
I always love crescent moon. It reminds me of my favorite pastry: the Croissant. I like it hot and buttery. Unhealthy dish of course, but you can always treat yourself with these kind of food once in awhile. Aside from unhealthy, it might be insulting for some. It is said that the crescent shape of the croissant (it is crescent for french) is a symbol of the European force victory against the Umayyad Caliph. You see, the flag of the state/kingdom/whatever you call it that is now known as Turkey, takes a shape of crescent, which largely symbolize the muslim. When they win against the Umayyad, the eat the tasty crescent shaped pastry as a symbol of defeating them. Well, it is not the only story that involves food and symbolization. But the night sky said so, so I bring up the story. But anyway, how can food be insulting ? As long as it taste nice, the history wouldn’t really matter.
Enough story telling, I have to wash the mug. It’s past eleven at night, but I don’t mind doing dishwashing at this kind of time. The water is warm, again, dad installed a water heater for the sink. As I finish washing every scrap off the mug, I put it on the dish shelf, upside down, so it get dried out perfectly. I washed my dish with the help of gravity. That sounds so sophisticated right ? But not really, just put the mug upside down, and the drops of water will travel itself into the bottom of the cup and left it just like that. Pulled by the gravitational force of the gravity.
Next trip is to the bathroom, where I will wash my hand, my feet, my face, and brush my teeth. Another best feeling before going to bed. I always use cold water to do these final ritual of the day. It feels good, some people says it is refreshing, but at this kind of time, for me, it makes me want to sleep even more. I don’t know why, it just does. Of course my bathroom installed with a water heater, it’s a nonsense if the dish can bath with warm water while I can’t. The ritual starts with brushing my teeth. First, I rinse my toothbrush with very hot water. So the brush will get soften, and it helps with my bleeding gum. Then I brush my teeth. Ultra withening toothpaste. I can’t handle other toothpastes since it is either too strong for my mouth or taste bad. This ultra withening one is the best. After that, I was my face, then both hands and feet. I pat my face with dried towel, and put it to the washing bin. Always use dry towel for this kind of occasion. Always. It serves you the best. I know I have to wash more, but hell, if it is comfortable, why not ?
Then, the last trip of the day: to the bed ! Yes ! Time to close my eyes, forget everything that happened today, skip off to the next day. Oh, since tomorrow is Saturday, I don’t have to listen to the sound of the alarm to wake up. I just wake up whenever I want to. Best. Feeling. Ever. I climbed up to my bed, tuck in my feet into the blanket, best feeling, another best feeling you’ll get at night, when your cold feet touch with the blanket, and you kicking it like crazy, and then, it starts to happen. Like what always happen every night. Something that always haunts me everytime I want to go to sleep.
Whenever I try to close my eyes, the wind comes. The rattling sounds of tree twigs hitting each other sounds like a disharmonizing harmony for me. I like the sound of the breeze in the morning, but at night, it sounds like something you’ll find on your nightmare. No, not your nightmare. My nightmare. Then, it starts. The first one. The shrieking sound that come out of my closet. “creekkk… creekkkk…” along with the sound of a grumbling thing inside. “GRRAAOOORRR… GRRRAAAOORRR..” I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see what I imagine; a pair of yellow eyes from inside the closet, a big black hand with sharp nails holding the close door from inside. The creature scratch on the closet door, giving it a creepy sound effect. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to, I don’t want to. I can only hope the sounds fades away as I lost consciousness. But it’s not. I have to see it. I have to. Just like the other nights, like the nights before, whenever I see it, it disappear. I know it. It has to. It has to. I gather all my courage, turned it into the power that I use to make my head and vision move and see towards the closet. Nothing. It was nothing there. The sounds stop, and it was nothing. But I know it, I know that what inside the closet will attack me when I’m asleep. It’s the Boogeyman. I don’t know what he wants, but he attacks and kidnaps people on their sleep.
As the Boogeyman stops its advance, now come the second one. I identify her as the Knocker Lady. I named her Joanna Blackhart. Because she is evil, and therefore, have a black heart. She knocks the window at night, lurking people out, so they will get out the window and ultimately fall down. Yes, she only appears in a 2 story floor, only come to the upper floor window which leads to the outside. Pretty scary and smart creature. I don’t know how does she looks like, but I reckon, a grandma with slender hand, empty thousand miles stare, messy hair, long nail. I don’t know, only my imagination. “thump.. thump.. thump..” “thump.. thump.. thump…” the window rattles as knocks over knocks coming over to it. I stay put. I can’t get off my eyes from the closet.
As the knocks getting louder and louder, I can finally turn my neck. And again, it was nothing there. Just a plain window to the outside of my room. A big, dead, tree. I don’t know what kind of tree, but the thing is I know it’s been dead for a long time. The leaves aren’t there anymore. It’s dried out, but I can’t remove it. I don’t know why but I just can. It’s been there since the first time I came here, and it would be rude to just take it off. But then again, it’s just the tree. No grandma with slender hand and empty stare. Nothing knocking nothing. No Joanna Blackhart. Only the tree blown by the wind.
I can finally take off my eyes from the window. The closet, the window, and then the next one –I’m getting used to this, the scratching sound when thick copper rub against gravel surface. It is the walking statue. The legend said, that the priest statue build near this house always walk at night. Legend said that it is looking for it’s lost pinky. It’s been ripped by the kids in the neighbourhood. They use hammer to rip off the pinky.The kid in the neighborhood are all obnoxious. Mischievious I’d say. Most of their parents are both working, so they’re getting less attention from they parents. When they can’t get attention from they parents, they try to get attention from other adults. What do they do ? Being obnoxious. By being obnoxious, what they did will get adult’s attention, at least someone will say “no” to them. And if you got less attention, a no is a big attention.
The scratching sound is indeed eerie. But everytime I check to the outside at night, it’d be nothing there. The statue stays where it is, and there is no trace of bronze or something being dragged on the gravel. So again, it’s just another night illusion. As I get off my bed, on to the window, and look at where the statue is. It stays there. It’s not moving. Again, it is just another part of my midnight thing.
When I want to go back to the bed, this is where the fourth and the last one happened. The thing under the bed. I don’t know what should I call it, but it is a thing, lurking under my bed. Slimy, stinky, warm, ready to grab my foot and bring me to it’s realm. I imagine it’d look like the Swamp thing, a monster from an old TV series. But then again, it’s not real. Just another part of my midnight thing. But well, it’s not happening. Usually, it’s start with a loud, deep hum from under the bed. Along with the slimy sounds and drops of muds from under my bed. But this time, nothing. Weird. Well, maybe it’s my lucky day. One less thing to worry about. So I get back in the bed, tuck in my feet, and start praying:
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.
While hoping the sandman comes and sprinkle it sands into my eyes to get me sleepy. But it didn’t happened. But I’m not yet sleepy. It is 2 am already. Not that I have to wake up early but, I still have to sleep. Then I have this thought, pretty cool thought:
“What’re going to kill you at night is not the closet, not knocks on the window, not the walking statue, not the thing that lurks under your bed, it is the beast inside your head. The beast that keep on screaming, projecting the worst thing that may come to your bedroom. The boogeyman, Joanna Blackhart, the Statue, or the Swamp thing. It’s you. It’s your mind that is going to get you killed at night. So, if you have an calm state of mind, it won’t happen”.
Okay, that. And I can finally go to sleep. Although I still wonder where did the swamp thing go ?
I woke up at 7. It feels great. Really great. That thought of how my own mind tried to kill me last night –and I can finally stop it, really help. Maybe tonight, if I try to calm my mind like that earlier, I can sleep much faster ! Okay, cool.
Then I step off the bed. And I fell down immideately. It was slippery. Ouch. It hurts my butt. But hey, how can my bed get so slipppery ? Turned out, there are muds around my bed. And… and.. it comes from under my bed. Whoa. What ? The swamp thing ? But… But… and suddenly, a big, stinky, sticky arms come out from under my bed. It grabs my leg strongly. It starts to pull me. Slowly, but sure. I can’t escape it. It’s the swamp thing. I know it from the deep, loud hum, and the muds, and the big stinky arm… Okay.. here it is.. So, I guess what’re trying to kill you at night, will be back in the morning if they fail.