I am strong, I can do this, I am strong, I can do this, I am strong, I can do this, I am strong, I can do this, I can, I can…1

I cannot turn off the light. I’m not strong enough. But…I am strong. I am. Really, I am. Aren’t I? I’m strong enough to beat them…the headless creatures…they don’t have eyes, but they watch me. How is that possible?2

I first saw them in a dream. But when sleep was gone, they remained; standing at the foot of my bed, lurking behind closed doors, looming beyond windows, staring at me from mirrors. And always, always behind me.3

It was worst at night. When I turned off the light…everywhere. Pressing up against me, close as my skin. At first I tried to sleep through it – I knew they weren’t real. But I couldn’t do it. The dark was – is still – a source of terror.4

I spoke to them. They didn’t reply. I still spoke – “why do you hunt me? Did I do wrong?”. I begged them to respond; to tell me why they existed.5

Of course they didn’t answer; they had no mouths. But they managed to watch without eyes. That was all; they did not reach out, they did not try and hurt me. They just stood there, staring at me.6

A few times, when I tried to sleep in darkness, it was too much. I fled to the light switch and hit it, hard. I sank down in the corner where I can survey almost all my room, and sobbed.7

The night staff heard me, eventually, and knelt by me, asking me what was wrong. But how can I tell them that my nightmares have become real? They would call me mad…8

I would not talk to them. I just cried, cried till the arms of my pyjamas were saturated with tears. They held out little white pills – to “calm me down”. But I refused; drugs would cloud my mind, and I needed all my wits to fight the headless creatures. But eventually the staff left, and I was alone with the headless creatures. All I had to defend myself with was my mind.9

They aren’t real, they aren’t real, they aren’t real, they aren’t real, they can’t hurt me. They can’t hurt me. They can’t hurt me. They aren’t real. Except that they are.10

Because by then I could see them as clearly as the light switch. Because by then they were talking to me, calling me to follow them. Because by then I could feel them fingering my spine. How many senses must a thing touch before it is real?11

I held an internal debate on the matter – are they or are they not real? And I concluded that they were only real inside my head; but I was living inside my head. As god is real for some and false for others, the headless creatures were real for me.12

I had decided that in the darkness they had substance; in the light they were merely ghostly shadows, visible, but not harmful. So all I had to do was avoid the darkness…13

I still saw them. I could not escape. Even when I closed my eyes they were there, imprinted on my retinas. Lack of sleep turned my life into a living hell. Death would have been welcome; but the hospital is suicide-proof.14

And inside my head I could hear the screaming: they’re real, they’re real, they’re not, they’re not, they’re real, they’re real, they’re real, THEY’RE REAL AND THEY’RE COMING TO GET YOU –