I could feel it staring at me though my eyes were closed and the room was still dark. I knew only that it was small with a big presence. I could tell it was small, because its breath on my face was slight. I claim it had a large presence because I had lain there under my covers sensing its proximity for a good five minutes, too afraid to open my eyes.

It was of no use – lying still and silent while my unknown enemy stared. I opened my eyes and met his gaze: small, round, black button eyes blinking in the dark.

I started to speak, but my throat, dry from sleep and fear, prevented me at first.

Finally, I whispered, “Who are you? How did you get here?”

I felt his breath. He blinked once more, and was gone.

Every night after that he returned, watching me until I felt his stare and awoke. I lost sleep, knowing what was to come, unable to keep my drooping eyes open long enough to catch his entrance, not knowing how to keep him from his secret mode of appearance and retreat.

Is this the thing of nightmares? Is this a harbinger of a future of unexpected haunt and impossible solutions to problems I would face?

Beware, dear reader, not of things that go bump in the night, but of things that make no sound at all.Photo: commons.wikimedia.org