I had always been a light sleeper, but ever since my breakup with Rosie, my nights had been even more restless. Especially in the first few months. Our relationship had been intense, passionate, and, all along, toxic. Rosie had a dark side, a manipulative streak that I hadn't seen until it all ended abruptly. After she left me, I had hoped I could leave it all behind. But Rosie had a way of lingering in my thoughts, and from time to time in my dreams too.
One night, after a particularly long day making new scenes for our viewers, I collapsed into bed, hoping for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. But as soon as I closed my eyes, the world around me shifted.
I found myself standing in a dimly lit room, the walls lined with peeling, stained wallpaper. The air was thick and heavy, and a sense of dread weighed on my chest. In front of me was a large, ornate mirror, the glass cracked and dirty. As I stared at my reflection, I noticed something behind me, a shadow slowly creeping closer.
I spun around, my heart pounding. There she was—Rosie. But this wasn’t the Rosie I remembered. Her figure was the same, slender and graceful, but she was wearing a mask, a grotesque, twisted thing that covered her face. It was a mix of flesh tones and dark shadows, with hollow eyes and a mouth stretched into a perpetual, unnatural grin. The sight of it sent a chill down my spine.
"Rosie?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
She tilted her head slightly, the grin on the mask widening as if mocking me. She didn’t speak, but the silence was more terrifying than any words she could have said. The room seemed to grow darker, the walls closing in around us. I wanted to run, to escape, but my legs wouldn’t move. It was as if the fear had rooted me to the spot.
Rosie began to circle me slowly, her movements deliberate and predatory. The mask’s eyes never left mine, the emptiness behind them making me feel exposed and vulnerable. I could hear her breathing, slow and measured, as she circled closer and closer.
My mind raced. I knew this was a dream, but it felt so real, the fear so palpable. The memories of our relationship flooded back—how she had controlled me, played with my emotions, and manipulated my thoughts and actions. She had always known how to get under my skin, and now, even in my dreams, she was doing it again.
Suddenly, she stopped in front of me, inches away. I could smell the faint scent of her perfume, a sickeningly sweet fragrance that only added to my sense of dread. She reached out, her hand pale and cold, and gently touched my cheek. The touch sent a shock through my body, paralyzing me with fear and a painfully longing memory.
"You thought you could be happy without me?" she whispered, her voice low and distorted, as if it was coming from deep within the mask.
I tried to speak, to scream, but my voice was trapped in my throat. All I could do was stare into those hollow eyes, the twisted grin, and feel the coldness seep into my bones.
She moved her hand to my neck, her grip tightening. The pressure built, and I could feel my breath being cut off. Panic surged through me, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. This was just a nightmare, but it felt like so much more. It felt like she was really there, suffocating me, pulling me back into the darkness I tried so hard to escape.
As the edges of my vision began to blur, I summoned every ounce of willpower I had left. "This is just a dream," I told myself, forcing the words into my mind. "Wake up. Wake up!"
With a sudden jolt, I sat up in bed, gasping for air. My heart was racing, sweat dripping down my forehead. The room was dark, but it was my room, my bed, my sleeping girlfriend next to me. I was safe. Rosie was gone, just a phantom of my mind, a specter from my past.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to calm my nerves. It had felt so real, the fear still clinging to me like a shadow. But it was over. It was just a nightmare, a manifestation of the hold she used to have on me.
I lay back down, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn’t come easily now, but I knew I couldn’t let this nightmare control me. Rosie was gone. I realised, I had moved on, and no matter how terrifying the memories, they couldn’t hurt me anymore.
But as I closed my eyes again, I couldn’t shake the image of that mask, the twisted grin that had promised me she wasn’t done with me yet.
I suddenly knew with certainty that I would see her again. Soon.
There was no more sleep for me that night.
