•Y/N: Your Name

•L/N: Last Name

•E/C: Eye Color

'Why is life so damn difficult?' This is a question I find myself asking daily. Why, though? Why do I always ask myself this? Well, because I'm f***ing terrified of every, little thing!

Wouldn't you after you've been tormented since nine? It's dreadful. I haven't had a peaceful rest in so long. I can't even take naps without getting trapped in a twisted nightmare. A shaky sigh escapes my lips as my foot repeatedly taps against the white, tiled floor of the waiting room.

Currently, I'm waiting to have a word with my therapist, Mrs. Williams. I have an appointment with her at least once a week for these awful dreams I keep getting. Ever since I started running my mouth about that monster that's been haunting me for the past few years, my parents decided to send me to her in hopes she'll be able to help, but nothing she said worked. Nothing has changed. I still don't know why they insist I keep coming here.

I'm not crazy, right? I can't be! I shouldn't be! No paranoia can't be this bad... Or, can it? According to Mrs. Williams, my fears have manifested into a monster inside my own mind, that it's merely a vivid hallucination. Her solution is always to "fight your fears". That's the moral of each session.

Ha... What a load of bulls***.

Don't get me wrong, I actually believed her at first. I did things that'd help me face my worst fears, but in the end, things had only gotten worse. Mrs. Williams suggested I start small by sleeping without a nightlight. You want to know what happened that night? I dreamt that I was in a dark room with no windows or doors.

All I could see were multiple, white eyes, similar to the creature's, surrounding me. The little beasts ate me alive while laughing hysterically the entire time. From then on, I've slept with all my lights on. It's not like that helped any, though. That... That thing would always shut them off before appearing.

When I informed Mrs. Williams about the experiment's failure, she said to aim higher, pick something that frightens me more than the darkness, so I rode a roller coaster at a local amusement park... It did not end well later that night. The nightmare I had involved me getting stuck on a frightening roller coaster that went on and on without an end. The worst bits were the hundred story drops. Then, there was the end just before I woke up, where the cart went down the tallest drop and into the mouth of a giant version of the creature that hides in my room. I shiver at the memory, gripping my arms tightly with a pale face. Every single nightmare had been etched into my brain like a story. Oh, speaking of stories, Mrs. Williams had suggested that I keep a dream journal, so that she could see just how dreadful each nightmare was. She is always surprised by the exquisite details because, apparently, it isn't normal to know every little aspect of every dream you get.

"Keith Briggs," calls Mrs. Williams herself. A boy, who looks around my age, with strawberry blonde hair and hazel eyes stands up from the seat across from me. He must be the one they've called. He's new, I'm sure of it, for I recognize every other face in the waiting room. He has soft features, faint freckles all over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and dark shadows beneath his dull eyes.

He's certainly in better shape than me, though. My body is very thin due to constantly feeling sick and occasionally throwing up. The dark circles beneath my eyes are much more prominent, and my E/C orbs are usually bloodshot. I flinch at the sound of the creaking floor when the boy walks across it with his sneakers. That monster always made those noises whenever he'd walk up to my bed.

I watch him closely, holding my breath subconsciously until he disappears into the therapist's office. I sigh and lean my head back against the dark grey wall. Being around people does help me feel safer, so I'm usually pretty comfortable in the waiting room. It's one of the only things that ever makes me feel okay nowadays... that is until that monster comes to destroy that peace as well. If I look hard enough, I'll sometimes find him hidden in the dark spaces of wherever I go, whether it be the car or the grocery store. On times I can't find him, I'll feel his white eyes piercing through my soul, like now. I can't see him, but I can tell he's near. The monster is out there, lurking in the shadows and waiting for me to relax, so that he can swoop down and scar me for life.

"Y/N L/N."

I jump in my seat upon hearing my name being called so loudly by the therapist. I must've spaced out. I hold my shaking hands tightly to steady them as my mother gently rubs my back to comfort me. I slowly stand from my seat and make my way to the door, passing that Keith fellow on the way in. The boy gives me a light smile before returning to his melancholy expression. I brush it off, trembling slightly as I shut the door behind me.

"Good morning, Y/N. How are you feeling today?" Mrs. Williams asks as I have a seat on the brown sofa across from her chair. The office space is nice and cozy looking. At my feet is a cream and beige rug with an oval table separating me from my therapist's brown, arm chair. Along the wall to my right are three windows with a desk that has a bunch of paperwork piled onto it. On the wall across from where I'm sitting is a big, metal cabinet along with a bunch of framed pieces of abstract artwork and posters about the human mind. Similar pictures are on the wall to my left, where the door to the waiting room is.

"S-same as always," I mutter softly as my eyes flick around to find where the monster might be hiding. I can't see him anywhere, though, which worries me. I prefer to know where he is at all times.

'Where is it? Where is it?'

Mrs. Williams hums softly, partially directing my attention her way. My E/C eyes met her brown ones, so that she could know that I'm listening before continuing to dart my orbs around the room in search of the creature. The redhead smiles softly in attempts to give me comfort before asking,

"Would you like to use Frank again?"

Frank? Who's Frank? Well, I'll tell you. He's this soft, plush bear with light brown fur and a red bow that's tied around his neck. The teddy bear is used for the more stressed out patients, like myself, a majority of them being younger children, though. Teens are welcome to use him as well, thankfully.

That beast had yet to ruin the cute toy for me, so it still gives me lots of comfort. I nod my head frantically, still never meeting her gaze. Mrs. Williams lightly nods her head before standing and walking over to the desk. She pulls open one of the drawers and takes out the plush bear with black, plastic eyes. She approaches me and holds the bear out for me to grab, her motions slow and steady as to not frighten me. She knows I'm not a big fan of sudden movements. I snatch the toy from her hands and squeeze it tightly in my arms, loosening and tightening my grip in a rhythmic pattern to help settle my nerves. My therapist takes a seat on her armchair before continuing with her questions.

"Do you have your journal with you?"

I nod my head and grab the small, white bag that's slung over my shoulder. Inside is the dream journal I packed this morning, but I hesitate to open it. I hate opening bags, no, I'm frightened of it. Who knows what else might be in there lying in wait to pounce on their unsuspecting prey a.k.a. me? In one of my nightmares, it was a hand with long, boney fingers. It had shot out from the bag and grabbed ahold of my neck before squeezing tightly, digging its long nails into my flesh to make me bleed. Eventually, my head just popped off my shoulders like a cork. I hadn't noticed that I spaced out again while staring at the white bag until Mrs. Williams calls my name.

"Y/N?"

I flinch upon hearing her voice.

"O-oh, sorry." Quickly, I unzip the bag while pointing it away from me. To my relief, no hand shot out to grab me. I calm slightly and pull out the black journal inside before shakily holding it out to the fair-skinned lady. The notebook is grabbed gently before being opened to the page I wrote at the beginning of the week. Each page is dated to make things easier for her. I'm surprised she can even read the words on the lined paper, considering how awful my penmanship is. My hand rarely stops shaking, so good handwriting isn't my strong suit. I grip Frank's stuffed arm with my hand, squeezing it tightly, while looking around the office again in search of the creature.

'Where is he?' My breath is caught in my throat, and I freeze when my eyes land on the metal cabinet in the back of the room. White eyes meet mine, and a wide grin stretches along the creature's face as he opens the cabinet door slowly. I gulp, not tearing away from his gaze even as my therapist speaks.

"Ah, so they're getting worse." Mrs. Williams sighs softly and adjusts her glasses. "Your case is certainly a hard one to crack. Have you been taking the medication?"

I nod my head, still not taking my eyes off the cabinet. Mrs. Williams follows my gaze, but sees no one in the cabinet. That's because I'm the only one who can see the creature, but why? Why, God?! Why does he only bother me?! I begin breathing heavily, fear creeping into the core of my very being as I squeeze Frank tighter than before.

"Do you see him right now?" The therapist asks softly while looking back at me. I can only nod in response, a small whimper escaping my lips as I bring my jean-covered legs up to my chest. "I want you to try a new medicine. It's fairly new, but it should help better with the hallucinations."

"I'm n-not h-h-hallucinating!" I deny in a meek voice. My tone reminds me of that dreadful nickname it likes to call me, "Little mouse". He'd rarely ever say my name, only that, which I found to be far more terrifying. The only time the creature ever talks to me is if I'm not asleep by the time he gets to me, which is often. It's hard to sleep knowing he's around. Adding to this, somehow he manages to force sleep upon me. I don't know how he's able to do it, but I really wish what I'm seeing really is all fake. Something in me knows the truth, though, that none of this is a hallucination.

"I'm gonna have to ask you to calm down, Y/N. I know your condition is hard to deal with, but I'm only trying to help." Mrs. Williams stands up to go to her desk. She pulls out a paper before scribbling something down with her pen. She brings it over to me and hands it over along with my journal. I slip the notebook into my bag before looking at the prescription paper. "Just give it a try, okay?"

I nod my head and put it away in my bag before continuing on with my therapy session.

All the while, the creature's white eyes were set on the bear held tightly in my arms.