Week 2: I go to sleep

Week 2: 13th July to 19th July

Prompt: Lullaby with creepy undertones

I go to sleep

The flat still smelt faintly musky despite of all the dusting I had put it through. I thought it would take some time before it got the lived in feel.
  It was a decent place to live in. It was situated in a good locality; my neighbors didn’t seem to be creepy and the flat wasn’t rat-infested like my previous hellhole. And it had barely cost me anything. Overall, a great bargain!
  I couldn’t help but feel a little alien living here. I had lived in the same hellhole for seven years. Then my insomnia got worse. I would spend my nights pacing relentlessly. My flat mates tolerated for a while but they had jobs too which were being affected due to their lack of sleep which was a result of my pacing.
  So I moved out.
  I figured maybe I would be able to sleep better in a new environment. I would be all alone with no one to disturb. Living with people felt like an intrusion of my thoughts. Both my flat mates read my mind.
  I snuggled up in my old bed in my new room and tried to lose myself in the world of dreams.
  The new flat theory? It worked! I could feel myself drifting off. 
  The world of dreams brought my mum singing ‘Raindrops and Roses’ from Sound of Music. She used to sing every night before I slept. The song was a talisman against the monsters under my bed.
  Mum was patting my back so that I would sleep better. She was affectionately running her hands in my hair and crooning in that sweet voice of hers.  For once, I felt at peace.
  The moment I thought that her fingernails grew into talons which stroked threateningly against my back.
Why do good dreams like these get distorted so?
  I could feel sleep slipping away from my clutches. Soon, I was completely aware of my surroundings. But my eyes were closed.
  The lullaby hadn’t stopped. The talons dug deep into my skin and brought out blood. I yelled and sat up. There was nothing around. The pain in my back was reduced to a ghost ache. The singing had stopped. There was silence all around.
  I breathed a sigh of relief. Just a bad dream. Nothing else.
  My accelerated breathing slowly  returned to normal.
  Suddenly something grabbed my face and slammed it into the pillow. The palm pressed against my nose and lips, smothering me.
A voice like fingernails on a blackboard whispered.
“This is what happens to bad children who don’t sleep. Everything is okay now. Go to sleep.”
So I did.

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