It’s 2:00 am.
You don’t know why you woke up, but you did. You are still in your bed lying sprawled out under your covers, face down in your bed, just slowly coming to your senses after that wonderful sleep. You peek your head over, looking into the darkness, wondering what woke you up? Your gaze darts around the room, passing over me.
You can't see me though. You never do. We play this game almost every night. And I always win, because you can’t see me. You always feel like you were being watched, but you can’t prove it. but that's mostly because you can’t see me. For all intents and purposes; I don’t exist to you. But you can hear what I might do. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll take that pen on your desk, the one you left out after doing some paperwork for your job earlier tonight, and slide it, oh, so, close, to the edge of your desk. Then… Ploop! The pen will fall over the edge, right onto the hardwood floors you installed last month. You’ll then freeze in your bed. You’ll proceed to look up. Your imagination will be running wild, thinking of crazy and bizarre things that it could possibly could have caused it. But then your brain will conclude that you just left the pen too close to the edge and gravity took over. But in actuality, I did it.
Or maybe this time I’ll cause the floor to creak. It’s a classic. Yes, you have new flooring, but let's face it, the contractors didn’t do that good of a job. They used ripped vapor barriers, boards that weren’t the best shape and otherwise did a very shoddy job. Their lack of standards allow me to crack your floors with much more ease than with the older ones that were here long before you. But you weren’t here to know that; You were on vacation.
It’s 2:15 now, and you're getting restless. You can feel me stare at you. I still haven’t done anything. The silence is unbearable. I could silently come across the room, floating over your floor, from where I am, and come right over to your face, right up to your ear, and I could breathe right into your ear. Just a puff. We haven’t done that one yet. What would your reaction be? Would you be freaked out?
Or maybe I’ll go knock a bottle of shampoo over in your shower. No, I wouldn’t be able to see your reaction. That wouldn’t be any fun to me. I love to see how you react to my shenanigans.
But alas, now it’s 2:30. My indecision has allowed you to drift off back to dreamland. I can hear your snores. I can see your back rising and falling to the rhythm of your breathing. So I must go back to watching you, from the depths of your closets and cupboards.
Waiting for 2:00 am tomorrow.