Short Story Competition 

11 April 2025 

Falling Asleep

Gianni Parillo 

As another day gets put in the books, I prepare myself for bed. The routine of brushing my teeth and slipping into my favorite silk pajamas, which look like a doctor’s casual wear, is natural as I am on the verge of turning eighteen years old. The beautiful orange light shines through my window as I lie down on my bed and carefully place everything in the right order to fall asleep. After scrolling through what my friends are looking at on Instagram and Snapchat, and finishing a series on Netflix, I close everything and fall asleep. As I am dozing off to the subtle swooshes of the maple tree just outside my window, I cannot help but reminisce about how horror-stricken an eight-year-old me was at the thought of even closing his eyes.  

This one particular April evening, many moons ago, I found it especially difficult to fall asleep, lying there in my bed feeling the cool and crisp air.  As a young spirit who usually spent his days running, jumping around in the park, and playing soccer, the notion of laying still for the next few hours was unbearable.  I listened to the crackling and whistling of the wind outside, thinking it could possibly fuel my slumber, but to no avail.  One sheep, two sheep.  Nothing.  The final ray of sunlight finally slivered away and disappeared into the night.  A shiver came across my body as I found myself alone in the darkness.    I could never fathom the thought of leaving my hands and feet outside the covers.  It was just too dangerous.  He... is watching and lurking in the shadows.   

An hour passed, and then another. I tossed and turned but the grandfather clock in the den downstairs chimed ominously. A rhythm that kept me safe. A rhythm that gave me an assurance that time was still lurching forward. Not even the tiny piano steps of an ant could fool me. 

My eyes had become accustomed to the darkness. Peering about the room, I mustered up the courage to swiftly reach over to my nightstand to satiate my dry throat. I guzzled from my water bottle and wished that I were a chameleon so that my eyes could scan the room in two different directions simultaneously. Suddenly, something outside my door caught my attention: a tall figure with a bushy beard. He was peering in my direction and seemed to be approaching. Terrified, I shrank straight under my covers as the bottle rolled noisily across the floor. I would have given anything to change my colors to blend in and disappear within the room. 

Soon after, I needed to use the restroom. This was a big decision. Do I stay? Or do I go? Was the coast clear? Could I make a clean break? I needed to be brave. This needed to be done. Even though I was tiptoeing, my footsteps sounded like thunderous booms. I finished my business quickly and scurried back to my safe haven. More time passed, and I waited. The night noises grew increasingly tumultuous. Furniture, mirrors, and the clothes lying on the rackety old chair in the corner started shapeshifting. My teddy bear turned into a monster. I knew that there were other monsters, and they were getting into my head. I thought of the things they might do to me. I wondered where they could be hiding. There was no more tossing and turning.  

I was petrified and just listened. The silence entering my ears was searingly hot and deafening. Where was the familiar sound of the maple branch scraping my window? Why could I not hear the seconds ticking away on that rusty old clock?  All I could count on was the sound of my breath. My pillow fort would be my shelter and protection. I hid myself and curled into a ball, where I fell into a restless sleep.  

All too soon I was awake, and too afraid to share my twilight ordeal with others. Night after night, the same story...