he was seven years old when his night became as bad as his day, dreams and nightmares colliding into one, inescapable horror story.

he would wake up in the middle of the night, unable to move, to blink, to scream for mom to help as the disgusting old woman appeared at his bed.

he wet his pants every night at seven years old, and he was too terrified to tell his father as the older man yelled at him for being a disgusting creature, a mistake.

his mother implored to tell him what was wrong, but he couldn't, he was so scared that his father would hit her, would hurt her, maybe his father was behind the woman being there, maybe he deserved it.

maybe it was like all the kids at school said, he was a freak, he deserved everything, he was weak and a baby.

he didn't want to be seen as a baby anymore,

so his nightly terrors continued,

and he had no idea how to stop them.

they never stopped,

but he just got better at getting through them.

his mother never found out.