I was awakened by the sound of my bedroom window being forcibly opened from without. Me, being a white kid living in the suburbs, peered toward the window from under the safety of my blanket. In the darkness I saw a figure fall into the room and swear a loud for two minutes as it struggled to free its cloak that was caught on the outside windowsill. After a tear and some more swearing the figure was at my bedside. It must not have seen the striking white of my peering eyes because when it put its hand on my blanket and I finally mustered the courage to speak, it reeled with shock.
“Who are you and why are you in my room at what must be a ghastly hour at night. I haven’t checked my clock because of my crippling fear but I’m sure it’s quite late.”
“Early.”
“Early?”
“It’s quite early. You see after midnight the next day begins. So, I’ve come into your room at a ghastly hour in the morning.”
“Is this really a time for semantics?”
“Just because your caught in an awkward situation, it doesn’t mean that you should throw linguistics out the window.”
“Your not going to throw me out the window. Because you look a lot bigger than me and I’m not much of a struggler. So, if you wanted to, it would be no real problem for you to do it.”
“What kind of person would break into a random stranger’s house and toss them out a second story window?”
“I’d venture a person like you.”
“No. Not me. That’s something a creepy bastard would do. Plus, if I wanted to simply do that, I would have picked the locks of your front door. Then I would sneak up here, quietly open your door, creep over to the window and slowly open it, and then grab you with the speed of lightning and see if you have any happy thoughts.”
“The fact that you came up with that so quickly, makes me not want to know what you actually broke in here for.”
“I’m the Sandman.”
“The mythical being that puts people to sleep by sprinkling sand into their faces?”
“Exactly.”
“But, before you came here, I was already asleep.”
“So.”
“So, don’t you think it’s redundant to come to put someone to sleep that’s already asleep? And if you are a magical creature, then why didn’t you just appear in the room? Better question. Why didn’t you come in feet first to avoid the crash landing?
“I’m a mythical being. What I do is far beyond the comprehension of a mere bedwetting mortal such as yourself.”
“I don’t remember wetting my bed.”
“I’m so used to mortals being imposed by my visage and in being imposed, letting their bladder control slip away from them.”
“I’m feeling down there right now and its pretty dry.”
“The fear is probably screwing with your sense of touch.”
“No, I’m sure I didn’t piss myself.”
“Sure you didn’t.”
“Could you just get on with this? I’m tired and would like to get back to sleep. And, that’s not going to happen with a large man draped in a black cloak hovering over my bed. It’s pretty dark in here, so your cloak could be purple for all I know but that’s really beside the point.”
“If I knew you were going to be so negative, I would have climbed up the side of somebody else’s house. Do you realize how difficult it is to gain upward momentum while wearing a big loose cloak?”
“I don’t really care. Could you just get on with whatever you came here to do?”
“As I’ve previously told you; I’m the Sandman. I’ve come to you at this hour to give you sweet dreams.”
“I don’t need a creep in a long flowing dress to sprinkle sand on me, in order to have dreams of the good variety.”
“It’s a cloak. Look, I’m the Sandman. I’ve been doing this dream thing for a very long time. I know what I’m doing, so you just lay there and let me do my thing.”
His hand went for a bag hanging off of his shoulder that I didn’t notice before. He tried to pull something out but his hand appeared to be stuck. He yanked and nothing happened. He yanked harder but the result was the same. I began to think that it’s not that his hand was stuck but the item that he’s trying to remove from within the bag was stuck. He yanked again and mumbled in angry failure. He should just let go of the item and then with his hand free, he could open the bag (it appeared to have a flap that either buttoned or clasped shut) and then easily reached in and remove the troubling object. I didn’t tell him that because I hoped that failure would prompt him to leave. Failure gave way to overblown success. The stubborn item came out but not without bringing all it’s friends, which slipped forth onto the floor and my bed. Still being too scared to move, I could only feel what the objects were by how they felt on my body. They were long and cylindrical. Holy moley, they’re dildos!
“You’re a pervert come to do pervert things to me. You’re probably going to stick a dildo in my ear. And you must be really sick to have to use artificial penises to rape your victims.”
“Rape! I didn’t risk falling down and breaking my neck to rape some random guy.”
“If not dildos, what are the things that spilled out of your bag?”
“Those are water bottles.”
“I was wondering why the ones that are touching me were so thick? But now I’m confused and more frighten then when I thought they were dildos.”
“They’re not filled with water.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“The bottles contain hot pink dye.”
“You broke into my house to dye my hair.”
“No. I broke into multiple houses to dye multiple people’s hair.”
“A serial dyer.”
“Yeah. And now I’m going to give you head a time warp all the way back to 1986. Now, am I going to have to hold you down?”
“I’m cowering beneath a few flimsy layers of fabric and stuffing of an unknown origin. All I ask is that you make the eyebrows match. Because, I hate when dark haired women dye their hair blonde but leave their eyebrows alone. It just looks stupid.”
“I can make all your hair match.”
“Are you just making a theoretical statement or are you foreshadowing to a horrible event that will take place in the not-to-distinct future?”
“I was just joking.”
“Okay, that saves me a lot of unneeded stress and counseling. Be quick about it though, I really want to get back to sleep, like I previously stated.”
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