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I was very disoriented today. The lines between reality and dreams were a blur. Was this real? Or was it part of a charade inside my head? I couldn’t make out. So, I resigned my head to the pillow and closed my eyes. I could feel a pair of eyes on me. But who would be watching me, I thought and dismissed it instantly. Within my head, the lines from the book I was reading came alive going much beyond the few pages of prologue I read; resulting in my brain scripting parts of the sequence not even present in the book. I jolted awake. I pulled the book close to me, hoping to draw clearly lines between the fiction and my life in this moment. I flipped the last few pages and began reading again. Was that all the book had said? Maybe there was a lot more happening inside my head than I realised.

I gave up and buried my face in my pillow again. “I can’t think straight,” I muttered into my pillow.

One thing I didn’t know though was that I was in fact being watched. My intuition irked me but I was careless and let it slide. Sleep overcame my senses and I drifted, again.

As I travelled to strange lands in my sleep, I felt a pair of eyes glued to me. The uneasiness from the attention grew until I jolted awake.

“When did you come back from work?” I asked noticing Sam by the door of our bedroom.

“A while ago. Did I scare you?” he responded.

“Yes! You are taking the Police song too seriously,” I joked and threw my pillow at him.

“Not really,” he laughed. “You were struggling in your dream. So I didn’t want to make it worse by coming closer.”

The kindness never left his eyes. He kissed my forehead as I let go of the unease. He propped the pillow under my head. As I lay in bed, waiting to sleep again, I couldn’t make out anymore what had happened that night and what was just a dream. I peered over the side of my bed to find my fat book lying open. All I knew for sure was I was reading tonight and he was actually watching me.

As he pulled out his bedtime book, I whispered, “Don’t watch me sleep.”

He just laughed as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Sleep, honey,” he said.
 

 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. We give out creative writing topics each weekend for Indian bloggers.