He splashed the icy water on his face again, hoping it would revive him. As he stared at himself in the mirror, he grimaced at the dark circles around his eyes, shuddering at the weariness in his demeanour. With trembling hands, he splashed the water on his face one last time.
       He hated the nighttime, for with it came the day’s exhaustion. With it came the overwhelming need to sleep. “Just a few more hours. Just stay awake until dawn,” he coached his tiresome reflection.
       Ben had not slept in five days; hopefully, tonight would make it six. He refused to fall asleep. Not again! He could not risk entering that state of mind even if his body craved a restful night’s sleep. He refused to let the memories of his past take over. He refused to allow himself to relive the events. He refused not to be in control.
       Sighing heavily, he left the washroom and made his way outside. Maybe a long walk would keep him awake. He braced the frigid midnight breeze, his body coming alive. He had made the right decision. As he strolled down the street, he saw flashes of faces in the shadows. Faces, that he was certain he had seen before.
       Stopping abruptly, he turned back and forth. The only thing he spotted in the darkness were his neighbours’ houses. Did he see them? Were they back? Or was his tired mind painting images in the darkness to drive him insane?
       Before he could ponder on that thought a second longer, he redirected his internal navigation system and briskly walked back to his house. Just in case they were there. If he locked himself inside, they could not hurt him. History would not repeat itself if he was within the safety of his home.
        Ben was only a few feet away. He sped up in an attempt to secure his freedom. His attention split between making it to the house and ensuring no one was following him. And so, he began to run.
        He was so close, he could see the light radiating in his bedroom. He was going to make it. All he had to do was reach out and turn the door knob. With a grand leap, he reached the door. His frightful fingers grazed it ever so slightly.
       With a sweep of the legs, he fell to the floor. The door was a bit distant now, but that wasn’t going to stop him. With panic filling his veins, Ben scrambled to his feet and reached for the door once more. But they had other plans.
       A tremendous blow to the head sent him back to the floor. The blurring of his vision commenced as a sadistic laugh echoed in the dead of night. Once more, he tried to scramble to his feet. In an instant, a face -the face that haunted him for years, the face that played the main character in his nightmares, the face that he saw on his walk- greeted him with an evil smile before delivering another blow.
       His eyes were wild and demonic. He exuded vileness.
       And he was.
       As his attacker delivered many menacing blows to his face, he slowly lost his ability to see. A red river gushed from his nose and into his mouth.
       A burst of boisterous laughter came from his left. His torture was a comedy for his attacker’s plus one. The person -whose face he had yet to see- grabbed his hand and roughly dragged him into the road. He heard his attacker eagerly following.
       Ben lay in the middle of the road, no longer willing to put up a fight. He knew he was about to die at the hands of this monster just like his wife and daughters did. He knew he would be tortured for fun. Beaten like a rug, then the snapping of bones would follow. He could already hear the resonating cracks that would echo in the dead street.
       Next would be the piercing of his skin. They would start slicing and puncturing his legs, just like they did his family. He knew he would become immobile and then the wave of violation would come. Violation that made him ecstatic that death was near.
       Tears forced their way out of Ben’s swollen eyes. For a moment, he thought that reliving the torture and murder of his family in his dreams would have been more durable. But he was wrong. Maybe reliving the memories of his family screaming themselves to death, would have been easier regardless of how real it felt.
       This was why he didn’t want to go to bed. He knew that it would be too real for him to bear. He wouldn’t know whether it was a nightmare or reality until he was finally released from the mental torture. So as he awaited the vicious death Ben smiled to himself.
       At least now he would never have to relive the tragic event again.
       The sound of approaching footsteps brought about both fear and peace, for he knew what was to come next.
       However, Ben did not expect to be shaken gently by the psychopath. The voice that accompanied it, was urgent as it called out to him. “Ben! Ben, please wake up!” the voice begged. Wake up? But he wasn’t asleep… Was he asleep? “Ben please, you’re in the middle of the road! Please get up.”
       With a jolt, Ben shot forward as his eyes sprang open. Panting heavily, he spun, searching for his attackers. But the only person he saw was his neighbour. The neighbour, who since the death of his family, rescued him from his many nightmares several times, and by the looks of it, she had done it again.
       His eyes weren’t swollen. Not a trickle of blood ran from his nose. There were no bruises where his enemy had hit. It was just another vivid nightmare. It was the reason he didn’t want to sleep.
       As he rose from the centre of the road and thanked his neighbour, he wished
that it wasn’t a dream. He wished that it was the end of his mental torture.