Something I wrote for a school essay. I had to write something from my own experiences. This is what they get. I got a 100. It’s a true story, just so you know. Why does all this creepy stuff happen to me, anyway?

When I was little, maybe seven, I hated sleep.
I referred myself to my siblings, parents, and maybe a couple of my peers that I was a lot like Garfield, except that I hated sleeping, and I just loved eating and cats. Every night, I’d stay up, and don’t fall asleep till 10 or 11 PM. Back then, I was sent to bed at 8 PM and supposed to wake up at 7; giving me 11 hours of sleep. But I wasn’t tired. I actually fell asleep around the same time Mom or Dad would.
What did I do in those two hours? At first, after Dad had tucked me in and went downstairs to watch his shows for grown-ups with Mom, I’d flick on my light, pull out an encyclopedia or a Warrior cats book and read for an hour or two. I wasn’t tired at all, you see. Maybe a little drowsy, but not tired. I knew from several experiences before that I’d wouldn’t fall asleep. I’d be wide awake with or no book.
Dad didn’t like this. Periodically he’d march up the stairs, and check under the little slits of my doorway for a glowing light. He’d burst right in and make sure I went right back to sleep, and I’d get punished in the morning. I don’t get it why he would do that, because knowing that your parents are secretly plotting evil disciplines for you while you sleep isn’t going to make me anymore drowsy.
I came up with an easy way out of this: I’d take my bathrobe, and put it at the bottom slits of my doorway, arranging it no light could escape.
My plan had worked. I had fooled Dad, but I still turned off my light whenever he came up the stairs.
One night, however, I had a nightmare.
It’s really fuzzy looking back.

My light was on for some reason. Both lights, in fact. I had two lightbulbs, one on my dresser, the other on my nightstand. The baby-blue shades cast a dark, yet warm, across the walls of my bedroom. Outside the cold, glass windows, forest loomed on forever, interrupted by the occasional headlights passing by on a road near our house.  My floor was clean, as it always was.
I saw myself getting out of my own bed, which was more like watching a movie than an out-of-body experience. I tossed off the sheets, and put my large-for-my-age feet on the floor. Then, I kneeled down, and looked under my bed.
Now, I was going through my own POV. Putting my head a little further into the darkness of the underside of my mattresses, a dark, grayish, humanoid figure popped out, resembling Gollum from those LOTR movies Dad would show me over and over again.
He pulled out two…things with his grey, hairy arms that looked like undercooked sausage. Then I realized what those things were. They were the skins of my Mom and Dad, all the flesh probably sucked out of their bodies, that he presented to me.
I thought that they were the disguises of my parents to look like real people, but were really aliens that wanted to take over the world. I don’t know what they were. I know is that I screamed, and I cried. My cheeks flushed red, and tears were pouring out of my eyes like money out of Dad’s credit card when we get taxed.
Then, Dad burst through my door, followed by Mom. I blinked. I looked back at Gollum to see if he was there, but he was gone, along with his…skin things. I looked at my clock, reading a little after 3:30…in the morning.
“What’s wrong?!” My Dad shouted.
I explained the whole dream to him, and Dad (I hate this part), cradled be and told me it was an all a dream. Then he tucked me in bed. Eww. Why did I let him do that?
***
Years later, I find myself still having insomnia. Now that I’ve moved into a new house, and I was 14, everything was OK now. I read books once in awhile, but now I just play my Nintendo DS Lite (good console, by the way) to make the night sound less quiet and well, boring. Cats will sit on my bed every now and then. Or I’d just stare at the ceiling and think when I’m too tired to play video games.
But still, when I turn my light off, I jump into my bed as soon as I can.