One by one, the minutes go by.
Loan Loud tiredly gazes at the unmoving numbers on the display of her alarm clock. The dim screen is the only source of light in Loan's dark room. The numbers stare right back at her, as if to mock her impatience. 4:47 AM. 4:47 AM. 4:48 AM. The teen's eyes lose focus, blankly staring into space until she can't read the numbers anymore. She doesn't want to anyway; it's driving her mad. She tosses around in her bed to push the apathetic clock out of her field of view. But she can't push it out of her mind. In just a few hours, Loan has to go to school. She'd rather stay at home. She'd rather stay in her room. She'd rather not see anyone for days on end. But she doesn't have a choice, and Loan hates school.
She can already hear the muffled voices of the girls in her class criticizing her haphazard choice of clothes. The unkempt state of her hair. The bags under her eyes. They speak with their voices low enough that she can't call them out on it, but can still hear everything that's being said to hurt her. To break her.
And every day's like this.
Loan can't bear the thought of having to deal with an entire day of that after two measly hours of sleep. And that's if she's fortunate enough to fall asleep soon. Loan is tired and exhausted; her body feels uncomfortable and desperately craves rest. But her mind won't allow it, the hours go by and she's trapped in her wakefulness. She powerlessly waits for sleep to engulf her body and take her mind away from the world.
But it never comes.
And every night's like this.
Agitated, she turns in her bed. The sleeping pills she took hours ago made absolutely no difference. No matter how numb and tired Loan's body feels, her worries go on. She's stuck in her room without any distraction that could help her forget about passing time, nothing that could help her fend off her anxiety. She used to play games and spend time on her phone on nights like these, but when her mother found out, she started taking all of those away every evening, thinking they were the cause of Loan's extremely poor sleep. But they weren't; they just helped the introverted girl cope with it. Despite her daughter's pleas, Lori didn't give an inch. And now she has nothing.
Loan sighs, trying her best to ignore the faint feeling of dread that's been building up in her. She rolls over on her back. Her spine feels sore from all the hours she spent hunched over in her gaming chair. Then she tries to stop moving entirely, believing that if she remains idle with her eyes closed, surely, she'll eventually fall asleep.
More minutes pass. With her eyes closed, Loan constantly shuns the negative thoughts from her brain to the best of her ability. At this time of night, it's inexplicably the only ones that her mind can produce. Progressively, but surely, her body starts to feel numb. Loan knows what this means. She tries to think of soothing things. Games. Landscapes. Her father. But it's not enough to keep her anxiety at bay. Her heart rate rises, her chest tightens, she feels her heart pounding in her ribcage. Out of nowhere, she starts to sweat, even though she's cold. Abstract, frightening visions flash beneath her eyelids.
She mustn't move however, that would only delay it further. She must bear it, let it happen.
Then her body relaxes completely, in a sudden, unprompted way. Loan can barely feel it anymore, it's almost completely numb. She knows her body's there, but it feels like it's not hers anymore. The indiscernible images start to fade. And then…
She sees her room again.
But Loan's eyes are closed. She knows what's happening, she's experienced it before. Countless times actually. But she can never truly get used to it. Her body's now in light sleep, but her mind is restless. It keeps going even as it should be shutting down for the night. And she knows that what she's seeing isn't her room—but it looks just like it, down to the little details. The main difference is that unshakable, eerie atmosphere that's everywhere in the room. An obscure sound starts ringing in the girl's ears, it's indescribable yet unmistakable, like some sort of strange engine running in the background, or a radio producing a garbled signal.
Not long after, the anxious girl feels a presence behind her room door. She's… it's back again. Loan tries to convince herself that there's no one behind her door, that it's all an illusion, an imaginary threat. The danger, the room, it's all fake, she knows it.
But the overwhelming dread she feels is very real.
She stares at the dream door, it's still closed, but she can sense someone—or something— behind it. Something terrible. Something that wants to hurt her in far more vicious ways than her rotten classmates. She can't see what's behind the door, yet she feels like it's somehow observing her, judging her. It's waiting for a moment of weakness. Loan's chest rises and drops in a quick, jerky pattern, she's sweating so much that she can faintly feel her sheets getting colder.
Then, against her wishes, the dream door opens, slowly, without creaking like it should. A dark, featureless silhouette steps into Loan's room, invading her safe space. It's tall and looks vaguely like a woman, but its shape is indistinct, wavering. The only thing that stands out is its head, the shape around it resembles Loan's hair, but it's definitely not hers.
"Mom…?" asks Loan. But no sound comes out. She can't speak.
The menacing silhouette gets closer. Loan is freaking out, she tries to close her eyes, yet nothing happens - she's forced to watch helplessly as the shadow seems to drift towards her.
At this point no amount of rationalization can shield Loan from what's in front of her. At first it was bearable, though she was uncomfortable. Then she was scared. Now she wants to cry, she wants to run away from that thing, she wants to wake up.
Loan's determination to idly bear that dreadful experience has completely vanished. With a strong and sudden movement, she tries to pull the covers off her body, to get up from the bed, to escape. But her muscles are unresponsive, as though her brain is trapped in her unmoving, lifeless body. Loan is completely paralyzed, forced to watch as the sleep monster menacingly stands at her bedside, looming over her. On the obscured face, she imagines two eyes that she can't see, but she feels them staring at her. Those eyes made out of the void are looking at her with disappointment, with anger, loathing her entire being. Loan's chest tightens some more until she can't breathe at all.
"MOM! I'M SORRY!" cries Loan mutely. But the womanly figure ignores her without an ounce of pity. Suddenly the vicious shadow raises some sort of club or baton above the frightened girl, Loan knows the punishment is coming, she's going to get beaten to death! The room around her becomes blurry, the walls and door vanish in the dark. The monstrous figure loses all human shape. The troubled teen hears it whisper something that sounds more like a demonic incantation than words, yet she somehow understands :
"You deserve it."
Yet the voice isn't coming from beside her anymore, actually, the monster isn't there either, the dark presence is all over her, above, beneath, and inside her head. The whispers intensify and become an infernal, maddening uproar resonating in her soul. You deserve it. You deserve it. You deserve it… I deserve it.
Loan feels her head pulsing from inside, each painful throb exacerbating her fears and worries to a new degree. She can't see the monster anymore. Where is the monster? Is it in her head? Is… is she the monster? Her mind resonates with those thoughts and the otherworldly ringing gets so loud that it seems to physically hurt her ears. Chaos fills her brain until there is no room for her to think anymore. Loan screams, frantically calling for help, but her lips barely move.
In this cursed, imaginary world, stuck between states of consciousness, no one can help her.
The rest of Loan's bedroom fades before her eyes until it seems like there's nothing left, the monster's gone, her head is floating in a lost part of the dreamscape. All she can see is a dark, empty void. Moments later, colors start to fill it; the dream bedroom she was trapped in is no more. She can move on now. At long last, her consciousness flickers. Her brain is simply too exhausted to keep her mind going any longer, despite the teen's worryingly high cortisol levels. Finally, sleep engulfs both her mind and body entirely.
But Loan knows her ordeal isn't over as she's drifting off to a night of restless dreams.